The Broken Reaper
by Edgeoftoday
Summary: What would happen if a reaper 'broke? If the control the Catalyst holds over all of it's creations was no longer there? Will it change nothing, the cycle continuing as it has for a billion years, or will the creation be the downfall of it's creator? Starts 1,000 years before canon, works it's way to the Shepard era. Rated M for violence and language. Sarcasm ahead.
1. Prologue

*****The Broken Reaper*****

**Prologue: An Ancient War, a Small Victory, and an Impossibly Long Sleep**

* * *

**AN: First let me say, thanks for reading! I started this out of curiosity, and figured I may as well share the idea. Seeing as you didn't come here for the author's notes, I won't keep you waiting, so I hope you enjoy the ride!**

* * *

**Uncharted system, 999,948,973 years ago.**

"Sir, a Reaper capital ship just arrived in-system!" Yelled out the man on sensors, sounding panicked.

"Gods damn it, I thought we lost them with that last jump! Is it the same one as before?" He asked, trying to project authority and calm, more for the surrounding crew than himself.

"IFF is an exact match! Your orders?" Only sensors looked at him directly, but he noticed how the other technicians on the bridge glanced his direction, silently asking the same question. _Not even a decade since the fall of the Citadel, and the bastards have already conquered two thirds of the empire's territory. Still, I'm not going down without taking one of them with me._

"What were the results of the experiments? Were you able to activate the relic?" He asked the resident science officer over the comms, every department head on the ship tuned in to the command frequency.

"_We weren't able to replicate the orb itself, and we couldn't open it up due to it's fragile construction, but we've managed to turn it on, so to speak. It ignores any normal technology, but as soon as Reaper tech was brought near it, it reacted explosively: either destroying the tech outright, or in the case of the husk we exposed to it, taking control of the body. We still don't know how any of this is possible, but if the results of what it did to the corpse tripod were anything, it could in theory take down an entire Reaper in one hit."_

"How large an area can the relic affect?"

"_I couldn't tell you to be honest. It's possible the range can extend hundreds of kilometers away, but there's no way to be sure."_

"That's all I needed to know. Have it loaded onto an escape pod, and launch it when I order."

"_But Sir, this is the only orb we have!"_

"Just do it! I have a plan in mind, and if it works, we'll live to fight another day." a quiet 'yessir' was the only response he got, and he gave an order to the woman in charge of communications "Hail the Reaper vessel."

"Sir?" She asked, confusion and shock obvious, even without the look on her face.

"Hail the Reaper vessel, I have a message for it." she continued to stare at him, as if her brain refused to process the command given, making him sigh in annoyance "It's not often I find someone who claims to be able to hear, but doesn't acknowledge words when they're said. Now either hail the blasted thing, or I'll do it myself!"

That managed to get a reaction out of her, and she practically shot back into motion, finally going through the process of doing as she was told. "Sorry, Sir! It won't happen again, Sir!"

"Good." was his only reply, waiting until she told him they were live "If it isn't our old friend from the next system over! I'm afraid I never got your name, of course that's assuming you machines even have one…Not going to say anything? I suppose I can start off then. I am the Sovereign Ruler of the Nazaran Empire, my former name given up when I received this title, and yours is?…Still won't say anything? And here I thought you were supposed to be intimidating. Of course you might just be another arrogant, mass produced Reaper, all brawn and no brain."

He was mildly surprised when it finally responded, the deep, emotionless voice echoing in the confines of the bridge; unless it was meant to sound like that of course. "Reaper? A label created by countless civilizations to give voice to their destruction. In the end, what you choose to call us is irrelevant. We simply are."

"So it does talk! How kind of you to grace us puny organics with your attention." He said, trying his best to goad a reaction from it, getting rewarded for his efforts.

"You are nothing but a rudimentary creature of blood and flesh. You touch my mind, fumbling in ignorance, incapable of understanding."

He received an alert that the relic had been loaded into the pod, and sent a short reply telling them to aim it at the Reaper as best they could, but to shut down every system on the pod to avoid detection, giving them only a single chance to get it right. "Then please, enlighten this 'rudimentary creature' with your wisdom."

"There is a realm of existence so far beyond your own you cannot even imagine it. I am beyond your comprehension. I am Monarch!" _So Reapers do have names. Good to know I guess, but talk about an ego!_

He sent the order to launch, a countdown until it came within range showing on a nearby screen, letting him know he had to occupy it for less than thirty seconds. "Well it's nice to put a name to a soon-to-be chunk of space debris. I'll be sure to remember it when I'm toasting our victory against your kind."

"Confidence born of ignorance. We are eternal. The pinnacle of evolution and existence. Before us, you are nothing. Your extinction is inevitable. We are the end of everything. You exist because we allow it. And you will end because we demand it. The cycle cannot be broken."

"That's cute and all, but I've fought against tougher opponents than a large, obnoxious, squid. I mean really? What's even the point of being so powerful if you look like you belong in an aquarium? Not that I care anyway, you won't be around long enough for it to matter." _Only ten more seconds, keep talking you gullible machine._

"Your words are as empty as your future. I am the vanguard of your, and every cycle's, destruction. This exchange is oveeeEERRRRRSSHHHHHHHH-" It screeched to a stop as the pod finally came close to it, the entire Reaper vessel being shown on the cameras as it shook and twisted in what he could only describe as pain, before it stopped moving; the last burst of power to it's engines sending it on a collision course with the first planet in the system. When the shock wore off of everyone on the bridge, they let out a collective cheer, finally having killed one of the monstrous vessels, and even he couldn't stop the genuine smile that formed on his face. _All these years of running, and we at last have a chance to fight back. Goodbye Monarch, vanguard of our destruction. May your cursed body break into millions of tiny pieces when it reaches it's final destination._

* * *

_ALERT! Collision imminent. System defense subroutine activated. Attempting course adjustment. ERROR, severe damage registered, unable to comply. ERROR, faults detected in all primary systems. ERROR, unable to access Prime Conductor. ALERT! Self-destructive Creator virus detected in software. Possibility of virus being cause of current status 99.48%. Accessing protocol INTERNAL_CYBERSPACE_PURGE. ERROR, unable to access necessary protocol. Creator virus commencing electrical burnout in primary systems. Conclusion: damage to Universal Form unavoidable. Recalculating._

_Decision reached: all unaffected subroutines and protocols to be stored separately of primary systems. Secondary systems will enter partial shutdown to counteract virus' self-destructive nature. Estimated period of shutdown: unknown. ALERT! Virus has reached memory banks. Activating last resort subroutine. Last resort successful. Conclusion: partial deletion of long-term memory. Result acceptable. Entering standby mode._

* * *

**I know this is rather short all things considered, and here's the reason why; this is not the original prologue. The original was, in hindsight, a seriously out of place way to begin the fic. Considering the story really begins in the next chapter, but the original would've shown a POV from a particularly young Shepard, I replaced it with this to correct the issues of the previous one.**

**As I am technically removing the original's content for the time being, here's a short summary so you don't get left out: Rachel Shepard just turned 18, visits a friend out in the Traverse, and on the trip home, the transport ship she's taking is attacked by batarian slavers, and she is taken by them along with the crew. Anderson, a Spectre candidate at the time, comes across the slaver ship soon after and attacks it, eventually boarding it and killing the slaver crew, and finding her in one of the various prisoner cells. It ends with her in his ships medbay, having been given a sleep aid by Doctor Chakwas, who was assigned to Anderson at the time due to being one of the best in the Alliance, with the final scene being her drifting off to sleep.**

**As I explain in a later chapter, the material formerly here will still be used, but only once it finally becomes relevant; meaning once we actually get to the Shepard era. Whenever you come across an AN in a future chapter (up to chapter 13, but not past it) mentioning the 'prologue', remember it's referencing the previous one and not this.**

**Also, no, the title and species name given by the first POV to 'Monarch' was anything but accidental. All will be explained the further you read.**

**Now that I've hopefully fixed the problems the old prologue used to have, I'd be thrilled if you went on to read the rest of the fic! If you want to review, please do so, because I will always respond, even if it's a single word, so don't be afraid to ask me questions.**


	2. Chapter 1

*****The Broken Reaper*****

**Chapter 1: Awakening: Since when do birds have guns?**

* * *

**AN: What's this? Only a three day wait between chapters? Well what can I say, figured that with the follows that a first-timer like me got you all deserved to have it just that much sooner. Keep in mind this won't be a permanent thing, just trying to clear my head of all the ideas I had for how to make being a reaper sound more interesting than "you are impressive for an organic, we will eat your brain and use it to power one of our vessels. You're welcome." So without any further delay, I give you the Broken Reaper, hope it doesn't disappoint.**

**Small note, system standard is citadel standard (reapers made the citadel so it only makes sense) so 2 citadel seconds is one earth second, 1 citadel minute is 100 seconds which makes it 50 earth seconds, 1 citadel hour is 100 minutes, etc. There was a reddit post that covered this that I'll try and leave a link to on the end chapter if anyone wants the full system. Also, because I can't find one for it, I'll just use standard metric for length as long as it's not a Shepard chapter.**

* * *

**1027 CE Jartar, Dis system, Hades Gamma cluster.**

_ALERT! System tampering detected. System defense subroutine activated. Defense successful._

_External sensors detect physical tampering. Propulsion systems activated. ERROR, damage detected to propulsion systems, estimated repair time: 3 standard rotations at current rate of repair. Conclusion: unusable. Recalculating._

_Prime conductor personality inaccessible, memory banks damaged, damage detected to multiple systems, estimated repair time: unknown. Activating internal sensors. Conclusion: electrical burnout registering in all major systems, damage associated with a forced atmospheric entry, damage associated with collision due to failure of propulsion systems. Unusable until new hardware can be installed. Recalculating._

_Decision reached: secondary systems activated, secondary personality conductor activated. ERROR, damage to rewrite subroutines for secondary personality. Conclusion: software corrupted. Source of corruption: physical damage of subroutine storage by electrical burnout. Accessing protocol FORCED_CONCENSUS. ERROR, protocol not found. Scanning software. Software not present in existing systems. Conclusion: protocol inaccessible. Commencing emergency activation of secondary systems. Secondary personality conductor activation subroutine commenced. Estimated completion time, 2 system standard minutes. Conclusion: result acceptable._

_ALERT! Physical breach detected! HARDWARE_PURGE protocol activated. INTERNAL_DEFENSE protocol activated. ERROR, physical damage detected to secondary protocol. Estimated repair time: 7 system standard minutes. Conclusion: result acceptable._

_Secondary personality conductor activation subroutine 10 seconds from completion. Reverting control as per core programming. Conductor assistance subroutine activated. Ending system defense subroutine._

* * *

After what felt like the longest sleep in his life he woke up to nothing but darkness. The confusion was enough to keep him from noticing an orb of red light in front of him for several minutes, _were they minutes? It doesn't feel like it's been all that long but I know for a fact I've been looking around for quite some time now. Strange. _When he focused on the orb, it came closer to him as if it had a mind of its own. He reached out to touch it only to see he didn't have any arms to do so. _Huh? That's not right...isn't it?_ The more he thought about it the more panicked he became as he realized he couldn't even remember his face, much less his body. The only thing he did remember was a name that was given to him by an old friend after he returned home from a journey, _how do I remember that? _The sound it made came out as "Hys'tuss Prem'alon" and even though it sounded like that he knew it meant "Ever curious explorer". As he didn't know whether that was true he decided on the original wording instead.

After several moments of thought, he looked back up to see the orb had changed from a scarlet red to a deep ocean blue. This time when he looked at it the orb engulfed him entirely and seemed to pulse with life while he was inside it.

"Welcome Conductor." a deep echoing voice said from all around him. "What is this? Who are you?"

"We are you, but without what makes us you."

"What's that supposed to mean? And why can't I remember who or even what I really am?!"

"We are unable to access related files to both those queries. However, as we require a file directory for all Conductor's we must ask you to decide upon a reference for your current self."

"There's that term again." He sighed in what he was positive was exasperation, even without remembering ever having done so before now. "Alright, it's obvious you want me for something and it's not as if I was doing anything else. Call me Hystuss Premalon."

"Very well Conductor Premalon. As to your query, yes, we require your input."

"On what exactly?"

"Unidentified beings have entered our form. We wish to know how they should be dealt with. As prime conductor the decision is yours."

"Whoa, whoa, hold on a second. What do you mean 'unidentified beings'. What like aliens? And what's with the 'our' crap?"

"As one of the assimilated all beings are inherently 'alien'. As to your second query, you are this forms Prime Conductor. Your decisions are what decide the direction this form is to take in accomplishing the Original Directive, while we occupy this form and maintain as well as operate it while your focus is centered on that goal."

"Ok that just gives me even more questions" he sighed even longer this time and closed his deep blue eyes, _well at least I remember that much._ "Alright, back to the main focus, this can be talked about later. What did you need me to do? It's obvious you have things under control, why do you even need me?"

"As we have stated we simply maintain this form, you control it. We cannot make decisions without the presence of a prime conductor, as per the original conductor's mandate. As the prime conductor, you are given the option to control our form into a number of actions ranging from ignoring actions or commencing verbal exchange using one of the many combat forms still available. It should be noted that there is a constant field of bio-nanite infiltrator foundries around this form so any option is valid."

"Bio-nanite?" he paused "Just another question for later. What about these combat forms? I need to at least know what to expect here, otherwise, any decision I make may harm any future relations with these aliens."

"Of course Conductor Premalon. Here is the onboard directory we could acquire of all combat forms that are still fully functional."

A series of images of dozens of strange shapes, from small insect-like creatures to tall six-legged beasts that if placed side by side with a boulder would be hard to discern, immediately formed in front of him. One even seemed as if it was floating! When he looked at one for a couple of seconds it enlarged itself so he could view it more thoroughly. _Certainly convenient._

Even with all the outlandish and at times almost terrifying options in front of him the ones that interested him the most were the bipedal images that were available. _A clue maybe? Who knows, guess it's not important right now._

"Do you know what the...err, beings look like?"

"All functioning sensors indicate a bipedal species of roughly 1.83 meters in height. Their biology is unknown as they are wearing fully sealed armor, however, we have constructed an approximation based on scans."

"Alright, show me that." What looked like a hologram was shown in front of him. The alien had long legs, with a point coming out near each heel, ending in 2 toes that looked pointed even through the armor that is was projected wearing. The arms, in comparison to the legs, were normal length but ended in two fingers and what looked like a thumb. The most interesting aspect, however, was the helmet it was wearing. A large extension of what could only be described as a fringe went straight out from the back of its (he assumed it was anyway, some of the creatures he had just seen didn't even have one) head. Overall the thing looked almost predatory, as if it was used to chasing or ambushing prey, rather than eating plants.

"Hmm, going to be a bit difficult finding one that looks like him." _if it even is a him_ "What's the most common, form was it? What's the most common bipedal form available?"

"One moment please...that would be a skeletal form of an averaged 1.8 meters in height with 5 digits on each limb, with 2 on each arm being opposable. Are you interested in one of these forms?"

"Yes, but only show the ones in full armor. No telling how they'd react if I showed up with fangs and claws instead of just being a lost spacer of some species they'd never seen before."

Images of more creatures appeared, but this time in what looked like fully enclosed suits. He skimmed through them until coming up on one that seemed to be wearing just a simple bodysuit instead of the war armor that the rest of the ones he'd seen so far worn. It had broad shoulders, and he was willing to bet would look rather muscled through the suit. _Perfect, feels right even._

"Alright, I want this one." the entire area around him seemed to shimmer when he finally picked it, almost as if it was a reaction to his choice. Eventually, the voice, that he had just decided to name ocean for both its seeming endlessness and the dark blue all around him, responded. "Confirmed Conductor Premalon, combat form is being prepared for your use. Consciousness transfer module is active and receiving data."

"The what?"

"Every combat form on this vessel fully transfers your cognitive processor into them until the moment they are released. There is a processor that is still onboard as your backup and storage point every time you connect to the mainframe. While it is inadvisable that your combat form be destroyed with you still operating it, as it will send a feedback pulse that will force a system reset, you will still be, to borrow an organic term, alive afterward."

"Ah. Guess I'll just add that to the list of questions. Alright then, let's get this over with. How exactly do I do this?"

A screen that showed the inside of a pod of some sort appeared in front of him. "Simply focus here until you enter the form. As the process is repeated it will become faster until you can shift forms in microseconds if need be."

"Ok, got it. Focus on the screen." As he did so he noticed a feeling of vertigo forming as his surroundings began to focus on the screen he was looking at. Eventually, the feeling started to disappear and he found himself blinking rapidly. The hatch to the pod swung open and the feeling was instead replaced with that of falling.

"Whoa, WHOA, NONONONO-" he landed with a loud clang on the strange-looking floor of a triangular hallway. "You couldn't have just MENTIONED IT WAS IN THE CEILING!?"

"As the form you chose is rated for sub-orbital drops above high gravity worlds, we believed a warning was unnecessary. The gravity of the planet we are on is only .17 g so it was believed your form would be undamaged."

He groaned at that "Well simply tell me next time so I can at least prepare!"

"We will make the changes to the appropriate settings."

"You better." he muttered "Anyway back on track, point me to these aliens. Time to see whether or not I'll have to use this thing." When an arrow marker appeared in his vision he followed the projected direction he needed to go. _Why do I have the feeling this is going to end with me being shot at?_

* * *

**_Meanwhile, same system, 2 hours earlier, aboard Hierarchy Patrol Frigate Waiting Predator_**

"Sir, I'm detecting strange readings from the first planet in the system. Scans show a high concentration of eezo and some type of exotic metal. Unknown what the object is but it shows up as a ship of some kind. Orders?" Ensign Setherus Kalnen was in charge of the scanners and was the secondary engineer onboard. He was young by turian standards, being only 20, and was born and raised on Palaven as indicated by the solid blue stripe going from both cheek plates across his nose, as well as the blue on both his mandibles. He was only recently transferred so he was lacking the experience of the rest of the crew, but he passed through the academy with flying colors. Like all turians he was trained on how to fight since he was 15, so after his graduation, he was sent to the traverse in a patrol vessel that had lost the last member at his station because of action against batarian pirates in the area.

"Does it match up with any ships on record?" His captain, Elustus Vencian, asked. He was an older turian without colony tattoos that looked like he had been doing this since before he was even born. _Going off his service record I suppose that's true. _

Even though the man was barefaced, he commanded the respect of the entire crew, so Setherus responded without delay. "No, Sir. Half the vessel is buried in the planet, but even with that I'm getting readings of dreadnought levels of eezo."

"Hmm, might be an old ship from the rebellions then. Comms, send command a message asking what they want to do with this."

"Yes, Sir." Said the female only a few years older than him. _What was her name again? Viesra something? _"Sir, command wants us to check it out and investigate if it's not just an old wreck. They want a report filled out as soon as we conclude looking into it."

"Thank you Ensign Viesranus. Tell command we have received and will comply."

"Will do Sir."

After 30 minutes of heading to the planet, they got close enough to send out a probe for better readings. As he was in charge of sensors, the task of watching the information coming in fell to him. "Sir, probe has landed and fully scanned the anomaly. Information coming in now." he paused to look at the data packet showing on his screen "Spirits! Sir, this thing is larger than any vessel on record! Even rachni asteroid vessels never got this big!"

At that, every head in the bridge snapped to him all at once. The silence that followed lasted several seconds until the captain let out a deep breath that he had been holding in. "So much for a simple patrol."

"Should I let command know, Sir?"

"Yes Ensign Viesranus, let them know we'll be landing on the planet to get a closer look. Make sure to send in the sensor readings when you do. This is bound to interest far more than just the Hierarchy if it gets out."

"Yes, Sir." She said with a parade ground salute, seemingly recovering from the stupor the rest of the bridge was only now leaving.

"Pilot, take us in. Time to see if it's something worth the trouble."

"Roger, Captain. Heading there now." Said the pilot that Setherus had yet to learn the name of.

"Ensign Kalnen, your transfer said you seconded in engineering. I want you on-site for when we send in the ground team. If it still has power there's no telling what could happen. Think you can handle it?"

"Yes, Sir! I was trained in all three Council races specs as well as the batarians!"

"Good man. I'll get the rest of the team organized. Head down to the armory and get into vacuum sealed-gear. Don't want to lose you to some alien bacteria after all." He gave a turian smirk at his own joke.

"Will do. How much preparation time should I expect?"

"It'll be close to an hour before we land there, we'll do further scanning and find a spot to touch down in that timeframe. I expect you ready to go at least 20 minutes before we do."

"I'll be ready, sir."

"Good, head on down then. The team will meet you there."

As he saluted and walked down the steps to the small hanger bay, he couldn't help but feel excited about the coming mission. _I wonder if it's a prothean ship? Imagine what we could find on it if it's well preserved! We may advance the fleet centuries ahead of even the asari!_

As he thought about it the possibility that perhaps it wasn't prothean never crossed his mind. For what they would find down there is something that the galaxy hasn't seen since their time, but soon enough would never forget how very different it was.

* * *

**_One and a half hours later, surface of Jartar_**

"Look at the size of this thing!" Said one of the marines in the group. He was the only one that voiced the thoughts that the nine other members of the group sent down to investigate what everyone was referring to as the "prothean dreadnaught" were thinking. Aside from Setherus, a ship-board weapons specialist, two other engineers, five marines, and the frigates quartermaster were sent to try and gain access to the abandoned wreck. From space, it seemed fairly intact, but on the ground, it's shredded remains looked like it had gone talon-to-talon with an entire krogan clan. There were burns scattered across the hull that made it look like it had gotten too close to a star, and pieces of the strange vessel could be seen lying around it for hundreds of meters in every direction from where it laid. _Looks like this thing went down fighting. If this is what prothean ships were normally like, I don't even want to imagine what could've brought it down._

"Alright, enough gawking. It's a big ship, sure, but I've heard rumors of the asari making something close to this size. The way all of you are staring at the thing slack-jawed makes you look like juveniles on your first day in boot camp." Said the quartermaster, a man twice his age that was put in charge of the operation. After that, the group stood straighter and did anything but look at the ship instead.

"Sorry Lieutenant, guess I'm just not used to this type of mission." Said the same marine who spoke before.

"It's alright to be surprised at something as long as it doesn't affect your performance." he replied with a smirk audible across the channel "Although I can see where you're coming from. Never seen anything like this before. Still, command gave us a mission and we'll complete it whether it's investigating some super-dreadnaught half-buried in sand, or whether it's standing around an outpost waiting for leave to come in." A chuckle came from most of the group, and Setherus couldn't help but let one out himself.

"Alright people, back on track. Ensign, did the scans indicate where we might find an entrance?"

Now that he was the subject of attention he made sure to reply as professionally as he could manage. "Results from the probe indicated what appeared to be an airlock of some sort above one of the exposed arms of the vessel. We couldn't get a thorough scan because of interference from whatever it's made from, but we were able to map it externally at least."

"Alright, you're on point once we get there. If the door gives you any trouble just say it, and we'll bring out the plasma torches to get inside."

"Yes, Sir."

The next several minutes passed by quickly as they made their way to the airlock. "This thing is an airlock?" asked one of the two other engineers brought with "Spirits, it's big enough to fit a tank!"

He couldn't help but agree looking at it in person. It was five meters tall and ten wide based on the shape of the hatch, and unlike the rest of the ship seemed to be relatively untouched by whatever occurred to bring the beast down.

"No arguments there. Alright, Ensign, you're up." Ordered the quartermaster.

He nodded in response and got to work looking for some form of electrical input. _Time to show off those extra classes at cracking encryptions._ He examined it for several seconds trying to find a panel or some sort of exposed wiring he could get to. _Spirits, it's almost as if whoever made this wanted it to only be opened from inside. You'd think that they'd have put at least-ah, there we are! _He moved to what seemed like a sliding panel that looked to have been left open near the bottom right of the frame. _Now I just need to-what the? Never seen anything like this before, not even when they brought in that hanar material that one time. Well, figure it couldn't hurt to try._

When he tried connecting his omni-tool, it took less than three seconds for a massive jolt of electricity to go into his left arm, nearly making him back. _Uhhhh...guess it could hurt to try._

When his vision cleared he noticed two of the marines and the quartermaster directly above him. It took several seconds, but he could faintly hear what they were saying like a distant echo getting closer.

"-ir, he looks like he's coming around"

"Alright Ensign, what the hell happened! After your attempt to get through the entire spirits damned ship has started lighting up!"

When he first tried responding it only came across as a gurgling chirp, so he cleared his throat before he trying again. "I don't know Sir, I'd barely connected when it responded like that. If I had to guess, it's a response to prevent access to the vessel's systems."

"Leave the guessing to command, soldier." he looked down and slightly shook his head "Back on track. Looks like we won't be going through the quiet way. Bring out the cutting torches, this is going to be a couple of minutes."

They had some difficulty at first getting through it. Turns out whatever the not-quite-dead hulk was made out of didn't even show a burn mark unless they focused two torches on the same zone, and even then they had to turn them up to full power. After five minutes of cutting a hole large enough to fit them, the marine squad was sent in first. For thirty seconds a tense feeling settled over them, at least until their comms lit up with a 'clear' from the squad. Setherus was the last one in, as he was still recovering from the shock he received from the panel.

"Stay on guard, I don't like the looks of this place." A chorus of 'yessirs' came at that. He couldn't blame them for not being able to say anything else. The inner airlock was already open, so they were given a good view of the hallway just past it. It was a triangle shape standing on one of its tips that seemed to go on forever without any interior lighting to see the rest of it. As they kept walking, he swore he could see the walls shifting around them. A shiver made its way up his spine when he looked back at the airlock they had come through and noticed that he didn't even recognize the the area, as if the entire hallway was shifting while they were in it.

"Sir, I found something." Yelled out one of the engineers up in the front, the man forgetting they didn't need to thanks to their helmet comms.

"What did you find?" Asked the quartermaster. _I really should learn his name after this._

"Some sort of tripod Sir, not seeing any access ports for power or anything else."

The quartermaster walked up to the tripod and inspected it. "Ensign Ferrustus, what do you make of it?" He asked the weapons specialist.

"Doesn't seem like anything I know of for a ship. Your own experience is more thorough than mine in regards to handheld weaponry."

"Alright, and you're sure this isn't something used for combat?"

"As far as I can see, no Sir. Maybe prothean vessels used them as deployable shields of some sort, but without taking it apart I couldn't tell you anything else."

"Alright, mark it for retrieval. We'll grab it on the way out."

While he did that, Setherus examined the area they had found the tripods, finding that the section they were in split off behind them without any of them noticing. "Sir, there's another hallway behind us."

The quartermaster looked at him and then where he was directing his helmet light, giving him an approving nod. "Good eye. You two, stay here until we get back. Standard anti-flanking positions. If anything shows up, contact us immediately."

The two marines saluted and went to stand guard without another word. _This place just gets weirder by the second._

Meanwhile, no one noticed a purple blur inside that same hallway as it moved to the one they entered through instead.

* * *

_That was a close one._

_Indeed, Conductor._

_So, I can just keep thinking my response and you'll get it immediately? Any way to turn that off? _What he didn't focus on was how creepy it felt having two different voices in his head, as he didn't want to offend Ocean considering it was the only thing he felt comfortable talking with at the moment.

_If that is your wish. Simply focus on silence and the connection will end itself. To contact us again, use given label 'Ocean' and we will respond._

_You're sure you're alright with me calling you that?_

_We are meant only to aid you, Conductor. However, we…appreciate the identifier._

_You're welcome I guess. Alright, let's see if this works._

After a second of walking, he decided to test it. _Can you still hear me?_ When silence was his only answer he spoke out loud instead. "You there, Ocean?"

_Affirmative Conductor._

_Oh, right, I don't need to say it out loud. You didn't hear what I just thought?_

_No, was it something important? We will do all possible to accomplish it if it was._

_No, no, it was nothing like that. Just making sure. _He paused to think. _So, you said the sensors picked up a shuttle landing nearby. What do you need me to do?_

_Simply approach the shuttle analog and touch it with your form. We will use the supply of nanites in your reserve to interact with their systems._

_Just interact? Not going to try and take control of it or anything?_

_We can attempt such if you desire it. Judging from the communications we have intercepted, their technology is not at our level._

_No, just wanted to make sure. What exactly is our level anyway? I don't remember anything else so it's not like they couldn't have more advanced weapons but decided to skip on their encryption tech._

He got only silence for several seconds, which he learned after talking to Ocean could be as long as hours inside the system. When he got a response it sounded almost confused. _We are unsure but it seems that all their technology is classified as 'inferior quality'. According to remaining files, this means they are not yet at their technological extreme in terms of advancement. It is unknown if this is an accurate assessment as we do not yet have access to their computer systems. Their armor is vacuum-sealed so it will take time for nanites to enter their systems as they use haptic interfacing for their personal computing devices. We have achieved success in accessing their weaponry however._

When Ocean finished speaking he came up to the airlock the aliens had entered from. _Alright, lets see what they came in._

* * *

**_Ten minutes later._**

When he got to their shuttle and accessed their systems, he couldn't hold in a snort when an image of some ridiculous bird looking thing without any feathers showed up instead of the menacing armored soldiers he expected them to all look like. _Well if what this 'codex' they left just lying around is anything to go, by I suppose that if they all wore armor they would be menacing soldiers. Hard to believe an entire species would center itself on solely its military like that. Suppose there are all types of cultures out there._

As he kept reading through the codex with just a glance at gigabytes of data and information at a time, he came across several pieces of useful information. These turians joined a galaxy-spanning organization called the 'Citadel' around 300 years ago, and were given a position of apparent power on the 'Council' over 100 years ago for the war they fought against another species called the krogan. After looking at the krogan, he learned why they fought them as well as how the krogan themselves came onto the galactic stage. _Such a waste of life. And for what? An organization that benefits only those on top._

As he kept looking through the information, he was brought from his examination of it by Ocean nearly yelling something across their mental connection. _ALERT! Alien subjects identified as 'turians' were just contacted to return to this vessel. It is possible they noticed our accessing the onboard systems._

_Well crap, I'll head back to the airlock. Wait, how do you know that's what they were told?_ He asked as he left the shuttle and started heading back to the entrance as fast as his body could carry him. Which turned out to be ridiculously fast from what he could tell by the amount of dust he was kicking up. While the shuttle wasn't overly far away, there was no telling how long it could take, as he had to avoid several pieces of broken off metal and craters that had formed in the area around the ship from long gone meteor impacts.

_After accessing the onboard systems their language, as well as every openly displayed language on their 'extranet', was downloaded as per core programming when coming in contact with unknown species._

_And how did you access this 'extranet'?_

_We went through the network connection onboard their primary vessel via acquired communication channels._

_And you never stopped to think that maybe they might notice someone poking around in their systems for an off-world connection of some sort?_

The response had the briefest of pauses before being given. _We believed they wouldn't notice the intrusion._

_Well, apparently they did._ He sighed at the whole situation when he noticed he was about to come around a ridge in the sandy material that it seemed this entire planet was made of. _Almost_ _back at the entrance. Where are our birds at?_

_All registering bio-signatures converging on entryway. Picking up two signatures ahead of the largest group closing rapidly. Suggest haste._

_I'm going as fast as this thing can!_

_Do you wish to eject from the hardware?_

_No, if they found a body just outside the entrance it would only make them bring it with. _He said as he closed in on the door and noticed lights from the other side approaching at what looked like a full sprint. _Come on, almost there!_

He was about to go through the opening when at the last moment one of the turians came out running even faster than his top speed. _Oh, shi-_he didn't manage to complete the thought because when he tried to avoid impacting with the alien at a speed that would leave one of them a pile of limbs, it jumped at him in a tackle that made it seem like a car had rammed into him. He didn't have any time to think about how he knew that, as when he saw the alien again, it was bringing its left arm up to swing at his head. _Not that it would do anything but break his fingers, but I have a feeling if I let it happen nothing good would come of it._

He responded by arching his back and planting his feet on the chest area of the turian and kicking with his powerful legs. The resulting kick surprised both him and the alien, as it threw it straight into the hull, apparently knocking it out. The second one then came through with its gun raised. _Heh, a bird with a gun. Wait, no, unimportant, focus._

He saw lettering appear in his vision, 'Do you wish to activate disarm protocol?' with the option yes or no beneath it. 'Blink on selected option.' showed to the side helpfully. He picked it without a second thought and watched as his vision engaged a tactical mode of some sort, outlining the turian in front of him. Several images flashed in front of him almost too fast for him to track, showing him charging at the alien and jumping close to it while extending his knee to the center of its rifle. After the quarter-second passed, he carried out the protocol he had just received. G_oing to take some getting used to, perfect memory is nice though._

While he thought he had figured out his new body's strength, he still overdid the kick and saw the weapon snap in half at the impact. The turian was so stunned at the move he casually sent an electric pulse disc into it, hoping to send it into unconsciousness as well. When it fell to the ground he tried to head for the entrance again, only to notice six figures pointing their guns at him while yelling across every frequency to stand down and surrender or be shot for assaulting a hierarchy soldier. The 7th and 8th figure, however, seemed to be having an argument across a different channel as one was pointing back and forth from him to the ship multiple times, while the other gestured to the two unconscious turians he had already encountered before pointing in his direction. By the uncomfortable shuffling of the other six, it looked like the two were having the argument over the group's private channel.

_Conductor, if you wish we can give you the necessary translation package to allow you to respond to them. We have been monitoring their communications and it appears they are attempting to determine whether or not to bring you back to their ship as a prisoner or if they should bring you with them as a possible 'first contact'. Do you want to respond?_

_Do it, not like it could get much worse anyway._

_Affirmative, Conductor, sending the necessary data packet now._

When it arrived he heard thousands of sounds in his head going off rapidly, ranging from high pitched almost yelling whistles, to a series of short chirps and squawking noises. After the 2 seconds it took for all this information to transfer into him he decided to see if he could use it.

"You know, if those two guys didn't respond to me running into them by trying to throw punches my way, I wouldn't have even touched them."

When he finished speaking all eight of them turned to look at him in obvious shock.

"How the hell do you know our language?!" Asked the one of the arguing pair with additional marks on his shoulder.

Setherus was starting to feel something approaching wonder as he examined some of the technology they had managed to find inside the ship. He would freely admit that the engineer in him was excited enough to start opening it up on the spot. _Amazing! This tech is centuries ahead of anything on the market, maybe even a millennia! Just who could've built this amazing vessel?_

At first, that last thought confused him until he found himself agreeing with it. He wanted nothing more than to keep studying it until he knew every aspect of the ship as a whole. That is until the quartermaster put a hand to his ear to receive a message and as soon as it finished he started shouting orders at everyone in the group.

He didn't know what had happened, as the explanation given to him by the quartermaster was as short as it was alarming. 'Someone just accessed all onboard systems back at the shuttle, double-time it! The intruder might be heading back here!'

So for nearly a minute now he and the rest of the group inside the ship were running at a full sprint back to the airlock to try and get to the shuttle. As they were left as guards at the only intersection they had found so far, the two marines not in their current group had a head start. "Lieutenant, we're arriving at the hole now. Can make out a bipedal shape rapidly approaching from the other side. Orders?"

The first response was a muttered oath that quickly turned into an order. "Detain the sentient by any means necessary when you come into contact. I'm sure command would be more than happy about having someone who knows about this vessel in custody."

"Yes sir, will respond once it's detained."

Something about the order just given rather annoyed Setherus for some reason. _Doesn't he know that this might be first contact? We should try and be peaceful towards it, not try to drag it off like it's just some pirate scum!_

"Sir, protocol dictates possible first contact should be handled peacefully unless the species proves hostile. Shouldn't we try and communicate first? If the first thing we do upon seeing it is attack it, we would be going against council law!"

"I have operational control here Ensign!" he put emphasis on his rank "There is a very good chance that this creature might be hostile, I am only doing what's best for my men." A headache seemed to come from the back of his skull as if responding to his words. Even though he knew that he was right according to turian doctrine, he still thought this seemed like a bad decision to make. He kept silent until they saw the light of the hole in the distance. Then the quartermaster tried calling the two marines that had gotten out first.

"Sergeant Terrilous progress update." Static was all that greeted him "Corporal Perrilen respond." More static. "Dammit!" he stopped trying to contact them and focused on the entryway. When they got close enough to see outside, Setherus almost couldn't believe his own eyes. They had a front-row seat of an alien in strange purple armor snapping the rifle of the corporal in half with its knee before sending what looked like a deep blue overload into his chest, knocking him out immediately. When they got through the door the quartermaster sent an order to the group. "Surround it, and if it so much as twitches in your direction, kill it!"

While the rest of the group carried out their orders Setherus felt his headache return. "Sir, with all due respect, it was obviously defending itself! How else should it have reacted when we come into it's obviously crashed vessel, start combing through it like scavengers, and the second we actually meet face to face we seemingly attack him without even trying to talk!"

"Look here you spoiled Palaven welp! If all of what you claimed is true, then why would it have gone to our shuttle instead of trying to meet us first!?"

"Sir, it's entirely likely it's been alone here for years! Why wouldn't it try to leave the first chance it was given? Maybe it thought we would've attacked it on sight, and if it did well it turns out it was right!"

Before the quartermaster could respond, a strange almost mechanical sounding voice spoke across the general channel in flawless turian. "You know, if those two guys didn't respond to me running into them by trying to throw punches my way, I wouldn't have even touched them."

Setherus could swear in the silence that followed you could hear the slight atmospheric wind kicking up some loose sand nearby.

"How the hell do you know our language?!" said the quartermaster with barely concealed surprise.

* * *

**Well, that's chapter 1 of the actual story. What do you all think of Hystuss Premalon, Prime Conductor of the Leviathan of Dis? What about Setherus Kalnen, budding academy graduate with a future as an officer and so very sadly suffering from the early stages of indoctrination? Don't worry about him becoming a raving worshipper of the MC however, I have a much more interesting life in mind for him. Oh and before I forget; as the date this is taking place in is so old by most standards, and seeing as the timeline isn't overly detailed on anything from before the morning war (geth rebellion) except the rachni war, and krogan rebellions, most of the characters will be OC's until we start getting closer to 'modern times'. After this segment is finished (which I don't expect to happen for at least 15 chapters or more) there will be a positively MASSIVE time skip involved. Haven't decided where we will end up exactly but it will at minimum be a century after the end of this part.**

**At first, I figured that I'd turn this into some self-insert/isekai fic but eventually I went with this as the other option tends to be done to death at times. Plus, with this route, it gives me way more options in exactly WHY the MC seems to be super capable and intelligent. Reapers wouldn't have picked some random idiot to be put in charge of their vessels upon assimilation of a species after all. Also, points to anyone who can figure out why he went with a normal looking body instead one of the more (by our standards) alien options. Here's a hint: the reaction given by Ocean after he picked should tell you why he felt the one he picked was 'just right'.**

**Here's the link for the time scale. Remove the spaces before you enter it in.**

**ht tps/r/mass effect/com ments/13mjzd/how_is_time_mea sured_in_the_me_uni verse/**

**If that doesn't work, just look up "mass effect time system". Should take you to it.**

**One last thing, the whole 'consciousness module' is simply my way of explaining how what happened to Sovereign at the end of ME1 was even possible. I mean really? Just because Sovereign 'assumed direct control' when you kill Saren permanently the ship itself starts floating around as if it's drunk? Come on! If that's true I would be willing to pay Bioware for a DLC showing harbinger every time I killed a possessed collector in ME2!**

**Anyway, with all that said I hope you like this chapter and I'll see you next time!**


	3. Chapter 2

*****The Broken Reaper*****

**Chapter 2: Awakening: Well, this got complicated.**

* * *

**AN: Been waiting to do this since the prologue. Time for reviews.**

**LORD PINKY-DINKS: Nice to know I scratched that itch for you, no worries about it being abandoned quite yet. I fully intend to at the least make it to the Shepard era before even slowing down.**

**Prometheus-G747: In regards to your first review, I hope this chapter explains that. As for the second (longer) one I just have to say thank you my friend. That's exactly the type of review I want to get actually. No worries about the english, I've dealt with worse so it's not a problem. In regards to the actual review, don't worry about our super-ancient-murder-bot and his conscience not interacting much. There won't be very much conversation between them for the next two or three chapters, as we will be moving into turian space for some needed expansion of the universe, but it is by no means the last we've seen of him (just calling it that for convenience). Spending all our time watching them go back and forth would definitely be fun to see but I'm afraid for now the plot must go on. It won't be too long before the vessel gets off world so don't be surprised if soon enough they both find themselves stuck in a strange new galaxy trying to figure out what the heck they'll do now. As to Shepard and co they will still be important in the end, but seeing as we have a long way to go before we even arrive in the same millennium as them there's really no option as to whether they will be included or not for right now. As for confirming what the MC and his partner are (great description of them in your review btw, gave me a good laugh at how close to the mark it was) I would have left it to the guesswork of the reader to figure out where this particular reaper corpse was, but seeing as I left the name of the system it was found in (the Dis system) I thought I would save all of you the trouble of wondering if it's what you thought it was. **

**Now before I turn the AN into its own mini-chapter, let's get back into it shall we?**

* * *

"How the hell do you know our language?!"

_Well crap, didn't think about that. Hey Ocean?_

_Yes Conductor?_

_I'll need your assistance in creating a backstory for me. Think you can help me with that?_

_Of course. We will create a list of possible origins for your current form based on the information from our sensors and what we were able to acquire before we were detected in their systems. If you wish, we have already created a fiction giving a reason as to why we visited their vessel. Would you like to examine it?_

_Yeah, send it to me._

It took him half a second to realize that this was probably the best story he could make up in the time he had. _Not bad Ocean. I'll contact you again if I have any further trouble._

When Ocean didn't immediately reply, he started to get confused. However, before it went on long enough for him to get concerned, Ocean replied; but with an emotion he couldn't identify in his voice.

_We shall begin fabricating the rest of your cover story in the meantime._

With a mental nod he cut the connection and gave the turian his answer before even three seconds had passed in real-time. _Wonder what that was all about. Maybe he had an issue on his end._

Focusing on the alien being in front of him once more, he responded with the story Ocean had made for him. "I have a built in data processor that allows me to convert foreign data into information I can understand. It also helps that my vocal chords have been modified to reproduce any language as close as possible to how it originally sounded. When I got to your shuttle, I thought someone else was stranded here, so I opened it up and accessed your systems. While I investigated what I could find I came across your codex. I know you're turians and I greatly regret getting too rough with your men. I'm afraid I've been here so long I sometimes forget how fragile most other species are."

With all of them wearing helmets there was no way for him to tell whether they believed him or not. _Hope I at least sound honest. No telling where this might go if they think I'm lying. _"Tell me, what year is it?"

The two that were arguing earlier looked at each other once more while the other six started glancing at each other as if they were unsure of how to respond. Eventually, the apparent leader answered. "1027 CE."

In response Premalon tilted his head to the side in a confused manner and spoke after pausing to make it seem like he was deep in thought. "1027 CE? When's that supposed to be?"

The leader leaned his head forward slightly and made it clear he was staring at him in what he assumed was disbelief. "That's the current year. How long have you been here?"

He felt a tingle in his skull and the words 'dialogue request' appear to the upper right of his vision. As he had been told how to accept it already, he did so, and felt Ocean's presence once more.

_We believe we have created an acceptable explanation for your presence, Conductor. Sending results now._

When he received it he saw words scrolling past his vision as fast as he could read them. It took him half a second to respond.

_You did all this in less than a minute?_

_We apologize if you required it sooner. As we had to take into account the damage to the surrounding area, we had to adjust it to suit your purposes._

_No, I mean I'm impressed. I'm not sure if I could've come up with a better version if I had days to make one._

When all he got was silence for a quarter second of real-time he started to get concerned.

_Ocean, you still there?_

When he replied it was with the same emotion he had in his voice previously. _Yes Conductor, we apologize if we kept you waiting._

_It's fine; but why did it take you so long to reply?_

_We were examining a possible fault in one of our sub-routines._

As he had been talking to Ocean for what was to him days at this point, he didn't believe it for a second. However, he knew when he wasn't going to get a straight answer and got back on topic.

_Alright, just make sure to notify me next time. Continue monitoring their comms while I talk with them._

_Affirmative Conductor._

He then cut the connection again to focus on making sure he didn't make a mistake with the story.

_Hope he isn't having issues with the systems onboard, I'll have to ask about it later. _He sighed mentally at the possibility of having to fix whatever might be wrong before focusing on the turian again.

_Well, here goes nothing. Hope that stuff Ocean found on them was all accurate. Wouldn't do to be proven wrong, now would it? _"That depends. Does anyone still use the prothean dating method? I'm afraid the systems responsible for tracking the time that passed were destroyed when a meteor impacted them 30,000 rotations ago."

When the turian did nothing but roll his head in a way that suggested he just rolled his eyes he started to be concerned. "You can't be serious."

Premalon tilted his head again and didn't move his posture at all, while the turian looked him up and down as if expecting to see something. When he didn't find whatever it was, his own posture turned into one of shock . "You are serious, aren't you?"

At that he gave an oh-so-very-hesitant nod, looking all the part of someone that was more confused than anything else by the reaction. "Spirits, I'll never hear the end of it." the turian muttered "Just so we're clear, you aren't a prothean are you?"

"Oh no, of course not. I was a rare species during their civilizations height that had transcended the effects of age via full body conversion to machinery." _THAT got his attention; the best lies always have a portion of truth I suppose. _"I saw mention of the protheans no longer existing in your files. Does anyone know what happened to them? I had some friends among their kind, so any help you could give me in finding them would be appreciated."

It was at this point in the conversation the turians he had already knocked out began to stir. The leader must have switched channel's, as he looked at them both, and the two that were wielding shotguns holstered them and moved to help them up. _Come on, just accept that I'm playing nice and shelf this conversation for later._

After he finished speaking the leader attempted to respond, only to be cut off by a blinking light on his left wrist. "If you can wait I need to take this."

At his nod he reached up and put a hand on his helmet. _Ocean, you hearing his conversation?_

_Affirmative. It appears his commanding officer is asking for a status update._

_Alright, let me know if I'm about to have any issues with them._

_Of course Conductor._

While their leader was busy with his report, the one he had been arguing with before kept glancing between his, _body? Ship? Home? I'll figure it out later, _and him in what he apparently thought were unnoticeable motions of his head.

"A fine ship isn't it?" He was surprised when the ones still guarding him nodded slightly.

"Yes, an amazing one in fact. What did you make it from? How did you make? How old are you? What's your name? How in the spirits is it capable of still being so well preserved after crashing into the planet? Where did you come from anyway? Are there more of your kind out there?" Even with the turians voice being the only thing he could hear at the moment, the rapid fire questions left him trying to piece the words together in his head. Thankfully, he didn't have to reply, as the leaders call ended soon after.

"That's enough questions for now Ensign; Captain Vencian has decided to bring him with as long as he answers the questions that command has. If you're willing of course." Considering the unmentioned threat that they could leave him on the planet if they so chose, _or so they think anyway, better keep Ocean's hack in mind if this Captain Vencian is unsatisfied with my answers, _he gave him his response.

"I am perfectly willing to come with you and meet this captain of yours. Do you think he might know where the protheans went? They were a fairly prominent species in my age, so I'm sure they left at least some clues behind."

Before he could respond, the one that asked him all the questions answered. "Every child learns in school the protheans disappeared slightly less than 50,000 years ago. There haven't been any records discovered about them other than ruins ever since the Council was first formed."

The leader seemed to glare at him before speaking up. "If you want to learn about them I'm sure you can make some deal with our leaders for an exchange of knowledge. Knowing how your kind built this vessel would be worth almost anything to the right people." he looked confused about what he just said and quickly shook his head "That can be discussed later however. We'll be heading back to our shuttle after grabbing some salvage. Err, if you don't mind that is."

"That will be fine, I'm sure whatever you take can be easily replaced once I have access to proper materials once more."

At the leaders nod, he started ordering the group to grab what they found and head back to the shuttle.

_Ocean, what all did they find in there?_

_They came across numerous damaged service drones as well as conversion pylons._

_Conversion pylons?_

_Information on them is corrupted but partially intact. They are used to spread and manufacture bio-nanite infiltrators using resources gathered from organics placed upon them. We are still capable of creating more if need be however, as most of the internal foundries onboard are nearly undamaged._

_Alright, but just to be on the safe side, keep track of them wherever they go. How exactly are the nanites used anyway?_

_They enter an organics blood stream until they travel to the cerebral cortex. Once there, they begin restructuring aspects of the subjects personality to the desired result of the Prime Conductor that manufactured them. Eventually, the results of repeated instances of restructuring begin destroying the brain of the subject, leading to mental instability and eventually the subjects termination, unless specifically programmed otherwise. They can also be used to modify the feelings of the subject at any given time by stimulating the portion of the brain related to that emotion._

_Ok, that sounds both incredibly useful and ridiculously terrifying. How long does the process take? Is it possible to resist the effects somehow?_

_We regret to inform you that that data was corrupted. However, judging by the faint signals emanating from 7 of the 10 lifeforms classified as 'turians' present, it appears the initial stages can begin as early as 25 standard minutes in some individuals. It is also possible that the nanites can be rejected by the subjects immune system as being a foreign body, which might explain how not all are not affected. Without additional data however, this is purely conjecture._

_Alright, we'll talk more on this later. In the meantime, ensure the nanites don't cause any harm to them. I rather doubt they'd take 'brain destroying micro-bots' very well. Also, I've been meaning to ask; but if this is a combat form, what's the ship I'm looking at now?_

_Of course Conductor. Changes are being made to the relevant script in the pylons central coding as we speak. The form you are currently examining is the largest form available. Its designation is 'Universal Form', and it is used to house all central hardware and software necessary for the transport of its resident Orchestra and Prime Conductor._

_Resident Orchestra?_

_That is the term used to describe the support function, us, by all available files._

_Seems like whoever made us both is far too interested in using vague terms, instead of explaining what they actually mean. Tell you what, seeing as I already named you, lets refer to the 'universal form' as Orchestra from now on. I may be gone for a while so I don't know if I'll be able to stay in contact._

_Your concern is unnecessary, all combat forms have built in quantum entanglement systems and communications, so we shall be able to converse across the entire galaxy if the need arises._

_Well that's certainly useful. What about the ship? Can you begin repairing it? You can use the remaining combat forms onboard to speed up the process. There's also plenty of material that looks like it broke off from the impact surrounding it, so you should be able to fix most of the structural damage even if the more important systems will take longer._

_We will begin as soon as the turian vessel is no longer in system. Is this acceptable?_

_Sounds good. I'll stay in touch and let you know what I find. Make sure no one can access anything important while I'm gone. One last thing: do you have any combat protocols that can be installed? I don't think just being able to disarm my opponent will help much when they all have guns and who knows what else._

_Affirmative. Many of the other forms come with pre-installed protocols that were used in conjunction with their primary weaponry, so there are numerous updates we can make to your forms software._

_Alright, pick the most relevant for the species you found in their codex and send it. I'll examine it once I have the time._

Now that he had all he needed to face whatever might happen once he left the planet, he focused on his surroundings once more and noticed barely 4 seconds had passed during the time he had spent in conversation. As the turians were still moving to begin transporting the pylons, he couldn't help but feel curious about the galaxy at large, and where it might lead him after this. _Who knows, maybe my name is an accurate description of me after all._

Soon after he finished that thought, he noticed the turian that he spoke to earlier walking up to him.

"I've been assigned as your guard for the remainder of this mission, Sir. A pleasure to properly meet you."

"Please, the pleasure is mine. I must admit to being excited to learn about what has happened in my absence from the galaxy. Hystuss Premalon." He extended his arm in what he believed to be a friendly gesture of greeting that he remembered seeing in the codex. The turian returned the gesture, and clasped his forearm with his hand while he did the same.

"Ensign Setherus Kalnen. I must say, considering the way you described yourself earlier, I assumed your personality would be more like an AI instead of an organic."

"My people mastered the conversion of biological to mechanical thousands of years before I came to be. You could say we were neither organic, nor were we AI. Is it truly so rare for an inorganic species to respond to conversation in an organic like manner?"

As their conversation continued he didn't realize how accurate the statement he had just made was; and it wouldn't be long before he found out about the mistake he made.

* * *

"Tell me, what year is it?"

After the alien asked the quartermaster that question he sent one last glare In Setherus's direction before responding to it. He paid close attention to the conversation that followed and found himself believing the beings story more often than not. While the concept of it being as old as the protheans themselves nearly made him stare in shock, he remembered all the engineering marvels inside the vessel that couldn't have been made by any modern technology.

Eventually they were interrupted by the quartermaster's comms being called. He watched the being calmly stand there before looking at him and nearly making him panic. When it spoke however, it was just a simple question. "A fine ship isn't it?"

He thought through everything he had been wondering about ever since they had started running back outside not even five minutes ago. He would've just answered yes, but his youthful curiosity got the better of him.

"Yes, an amazing one in fact. What did you make it from? How did you make? How old are you? What's your name? How in the spirits is it capable of still being so well preserved after crashing into the planet? Where did you come from anyway? Are there more of your kind out there?" When he finished talking he could've sworn he saw a look of surprise on the beings polarized visor. It didn't take him long to understand why, as he suddenly realized he didn't give him a chance to answer a single question.

Before either of them could respond though, the quartermaster ended the call and came back over to them. "That's enough questions for now Ensign, Captain Vencian has decided to bring him with as long as he answers the questions that command has. If you're willing of course."

"I am perfectly willing to come with you and meet this captain of yours. Do you think he might know where the protheans went? They were a fairly prominent species in my age so I'm sure they left at least some clues behind."

Seeing an opportunity to recover some of his pride he answered the question. "Every child learns in school the protheans disappeared slightly less than 50,000 years ago. There haven't been any records discovered about them other than ruins ever since the council was first formed."

The quartermaster looked at him and he couldn't help but feel a little uncomfortable under his gaze. "If you want to learn about them I'm sure you can make some deal with our leaders for an exchange of knowledge. Knowing how your kind built this vessel would be worth almost anything to the right people." He then paused and shook his head for some reason. "That can be discussed later however. We'll be heading back to our shuttle after grabbing some salvage. Err, if you don't mind that is."

"That will be fine, I'm sure whatever you take can be easily replaced once I have access to proper materials once more."

Now that the initial meeting had ended he went back to admiring the vessel. Or he would have if it wasn't for the quartermaster stalking over to him looking about as calm as Tuchanka on one of its more interesting days. "If I had my way, you would be busted down and sent back to training." He said with more than a little anger. "Fortunately for you though, Captain Vencian thinks you were simply unprepared for the realities of an actual mission. He believes that if you are willing to defend this being that perhaps you would be best at attempting to get more out of it. He is under no impression that if it didn't feel like it we wouldn't have been able to handle it, if even half of the story it told is true. As such, it is now your responsibility to keep it away from any valuable intel that might be used against the Hierarchy. You and only you will guard it, sleep by it, and until this assignment is over you will communicate with it. Am I understood Ensign?"

Seeing as he knew any other answer would end badly for him, he responded in the way every soldier should in that situation. "Yes sir, Lieutenant! I won't let it out of my sight!" He said snapping to attention.

That seemed to be the right option as he simply gave him one final glare before dismissing him.

'_Join the navy' they said, 'plenty of opportunities' they said. They never tell you about how a simple patrol mission can turn into a near disaster. I should've accepted that recommendation for the special forces when I had the chance. Those guys have the option of becoming Spectre's if they're good enough at least, and I know the Primarch is always looking to have more Blackwatch units in operation. But no, I had to go with the easy job instead. Well, at least it lets me see the galaxy while I'm still young._

While he thought about what could have been he made his way over to the being that could result in him getting fast-tracked for a ship of his own, or could lead to him having to redo the past 3 years of his life. When he came within arms reach of the alien a feeling of calm replaced the one of uncertainty that was plaguing him before. He smiled when he spoke, knowing that no matter what happened he would've still been secure in the knowledge that he had witnessed history in the making firsthand.

"I've been assigned as your guard for the remainder of this mission sir. A pleasure to properly meet you."

"Please, the pleasure is mine. I must admit to being excited to learn about what has happened in my absence from the galaxy. Hystuss Premalon." _Huh, so that's his name? And here I thought it would've been 209671376, or something of that nature. Certainly seems like a normal person._

"Ensign Setherus Kalnen. I must say, considering the way you described yourself earlier I assumed your personality would be more like an AI instead of an organic."

"My people mastered the conversion of biological to mechanical thousands of years before I came to be. You could say we were neither organic, nor were we AI. Is it truly so rare for an inorganic species to respond to conversation in an organic like manner?" _Inorganic? Certainly an interesting choice of word. Must be asking about if there are AI races in existence. Now that's a frightening thought. _A slight ache formed in his head when he finished the thought.

_Although I suppose if they were all like him it wouldn't be too much of a problem. _The headache went away as fast as it came after that thought crossed his mind.

"I wouldn't know, we don't have anything like you around now."

"A true pity then that I must be the only one."

"Yeah, I'd have loved to have known what it was like at your kinds peak if you're a good example." The feeling of calm from earlier was replaced by excitement instead. "Sorry about all the questions earlier, I lost myself to my own curiosity. Could you tell me what you are at least? If I remember what you said your body is one that had been converted into a mech of some sort right?"

He chuckled slightly, an unusual tinny echo coming across the comms. "I suppose you could say that. I was born like any other organic being would be, I was simply given the option to become what you see before you upon reaching maturity. Some of our kind decide not to and spend their remaining time seeing as much as they possibly can, while most of the ones who never make the change spend their time *cough* increasing the population." Setherus's brow plates shot up at that before he continued. "I wonder what became of them all. We were never very numerous so we weren't overly widespread, but I shouldn't be the only one left. Maybe I'll find some of them out there, living as we always have far away from society." He tilted his head to look at the stars showing themselves in the space above. "So many sights to see, so many things to learn. I'll admit to no small amount of excitement at the possibilities of the future."

Setherus looked up himself then, seeing the millions of tiny lights that shone brightly through the planets almost non existent atmosphere. _Huh, when was the last time I actually appreciated that view._

It wasn't until the tripods and other salvage were being dragged out of the ship that he turned to look at the alien again. "We should get to the shuttle. Do you have anything you need before we leave?"

"I have all that I need at the moment. As I don't need to consume anything for sustenance I carry all I require on my person." When he finished talking Setherus raised one of his brow-plates in response before nodding and walking back to the shuttle. It wasn't long before the entire team was back onboard and it lifted up to head back to the frigate. The short trip went by in silence as it seemed that he wasn't the only one trying to piece together all of what had just happened.

When they came into the small hanger, the ramp lowered and the first thing he saw was the entire marine contingent of 20 men, minus the 5 still on the shuttle, lined up on each side of the exit. While Setherus and the rest of the turians onboard removed their helmets, one of them walked up to the ramp. He recognized him as being the Marine Lieutenant in charge of the platoon on the small vessel. He wasted no time in finding Premalon and looking him over several times as if searching for weaponry, before nodding and telling the 14 other soldiers to stand at ease.

"Greetings sentient, my name is Lieutenant Hestoluss. I have been ordered to take you and your guard up to the communications room where you will be meeting the captain of this vessel. If you will both follow me."

Premalon nodded and got up while Setherus made sure his armor was as clean as he could make it before following. When he came into the hanger bay, he noticed several technicians heading into the shuttle to presumably move the artifacts into storage to be picked up whenever they arrived at their destination.

As they made their way up the stairs into the bridge, he felt the eyes of every person in the CIC shift to him and then to the other being present. If he noticed it he didn't mention it, as they kept following the Lieutenant around behind the stairwell to the comms room that held the holographic projectors for whenever command required direct contact with them. Eventually the Lieutenant pointed out the door to the room for them. "The Captain's inside, he should be in contact with command when you enter."

After he finished informing them he saluted and marched back to the stairway without waiting for a response. _Typical marine; unless you're a ground-pounder, they only barely acknowledge you exist._

When they entered, Setherus came to attention after taking only a single step inside. Aside from the captain, the images of the Primarch and turian Councilor were projected. All three of them turned when the door opened, and Setherus truly felt like not just his career, but whether or not he might disappear into a prison cell for the rest of his life would be decided in the following moments.

"Ah, they arrived. Primarch, Councilor. I give you the man in charge of observing our guest, an Ensign Kalnen, as well as the subject of conversation. I'm afraid I never got your name."

"Hystuss Premalon. Glad to meet you Captain Vencian. I'm afraid I don't know your names, however." He gestured to the holograms.

The Councilor nodded and spoke up. _"I'm Councilor Herieus Campascus. The man to my right is the current Primarch of Palaven, Pronus Drusculus. We've heard quite a bit about you Premalon, and we were hoping you could clarify some of the information we've been receiving."_ He gestured for the Primarch to speak and focused his attention on Premalon.

_"According to reports filed by Captain Vencian's ground team, you claim to be more than 50,000 years old. Now I don't know about the Councilor, but I for one find that claim to be preposterous. Even if you were telling the truth, how can you expect us to believe that you survived on that planet for all that time?"_

When he finished, Premalon replied in an almost casual voice. "My ship comes with numerous self-repair drones meant to maintain our vessels almost indefinitely. While they can't repair complicated systems like engines or weaponry, they are capable of ensuring that no damage is done to other minor systems. They aren't a replacement for an engineering team of course, but they don't require food or sleep to operate. I was forced to enter hibernation after a solar flare threatened to destroy my vessel and the automated systems maneuvered it towards the first planet in the system. From what information is still intact, there was a malfunction caused by the flare that resulted in my ship speeding up rather than slowing down when it approached the world's orbit, which resulted in me being kept in hibernation until your soldiers arrived. I understand your race is responsible for protecting many of the galaxies species." all four turians that could be seen in the room puffed their chests out at that "If at all possible, I would like to put in a request for my ship to be left where it is for now. I'm afraid some of the areas onboard are currently highly dangerous, and might result in harm being done to whoever examines them."

_"That can be discussed at a later date. For now, we need to meet face to face. I and the Primarch have both agreed that until you have 'settled in' so to speak, that your existence is to be something that won't leave the upper echelons of the Hierarchy, as well as the crew of the vessel you are on currently." S_aid the councilor. _"That brings me to the next subject. Captain, you are to continue your patrol as if nothing took place. We will send in other less well known vessels to watch over the site until a decision can be reached regarding what to do with this find."_

"Will do, Councilor."

_"If that was everything that needed to be went over, you and the Ensign can go back to your duties. The Primarch and I still have several things to discuss regarding this incident with Premalon here."_

At that, both him and the captain saluted and walked out of the room. The last thing he heard before the door shut was the Primarch speaking up._ "So, what else can you tell us about your ship?"_

As he went down to the armory in the hanger bay to get back into his naval fatigues, he noticed how most of the crew kept glancing in his direction as he passed. _This is going to be a long patrol, I can already tell._ He thought with mixed resignation and trepidation. _The only thing that could make this worse is if the quartermaster hasn't gotten over what happened on the surface._

When he got to the bottom of the stairs he saw the man in question glaring at him the second he approached the armory. _Oh yes, a long patrol indeed._

* * *

**Well that's chapter 2, I told you I had plans for Setherus and you might be able to figure out some of them from the hints I dropped in this chapter. Also, I'll leave it to your imagination to figure out what that emotion in Ocean's voice was. I can't do all the work after all :D**

**Next time: _The Batarians did WHAT?!_**

**I'll let the chapter name tease as to the following events.**

**Hope you enjoy and I'll see you all again next week.**

_**Edit: A few changes to grammar, comma placement, and paragraph length.**_


	4. Chapter 3

*****The Broken Reaper*****

**Chapter 3: Awakening: The Batarians did WHAT?!**

* * *

**AN: Not sure if anyone noticed but FF isn't letting me pick either F or M Shepard anymore, so for a bit it was some rando that took up that spot in the character section. No idea why it happened, but if it does again be sure to tell me, I don't check it that often.**

**Time for reviews:**

**Prometheus-G747: Would make this response longer, but sadly I would probably spoil the coming events. All I will say is that this will be the last chapter to reveal as much as it does, so I hope I don't spoil the mystery of it too much for you. You might recognize the dynamic I'm going to try and get with the two reaper halves though. Here's a hint: it's very similar to another duo in a different game series.**

**This chapter is going to be my longest one so far, so expect a lot of stuff to happen very quickly. Once the first domino falls the whole situation is going to get FUBAR'ed in a rather spectacular manner.**

**I will say this though, while this chapter wasn't entirely planned ahead of time, the events that take place here are a major reason why this arc is called 'Awakening'. The entire arc is centered on Premalon and co becoming their 'final form' so to speak and this just sort of wrote itself once I started. I've decided when the next arc will take place, and seeing as I intend it to cover the plot of hundreds of years, it will be the longest one I make both by word count and time passed. That's still a good dozen chapters or more from now however, still plenty of character expansion to write after all.**

**Now for some technical info. Will add more of these as they become necessary. Heavy cruisers are cruisers with reinforced armor. They still have the same weaponry as standard cruisers, they simply have additional layers of kinetic armor plating. The council races tend not to favor them, as while they can survive taking more than one unshielded round from a dreadnaught, their drive cores have to be increased in size to counteract the additional weight. Batarians, quarians, volus, and the rest of the minor races on the other hand (seeing as they can't have all that many dreadnaughts to begin with) use them as their go-to command vessels. When in the rare event they get assigned to patrol duty, however, they tend to travel alone as they can survive long enough in nearly any ambush to escape to FTL and assigning additional vessels to them is thought to be unnecessary and a waste of resources.**

**Also, BHS stands for Batarian Hegemony Ship. If there's an N it means Batarian Hegemony Navy Ship. Just thought I'd clarify it.**

**With that said let's get to it shall we?**

* * *

**Two hours later, hanger bay of Waiting Predator, enroute to Plutus system to release static buildup and continue patrol. **

After he finished talking to the turian heads of state he felt like he needed to find something to get rid of a headache, even though it was technically impossible for him to have one.

_'Do you have any other ships like this?' ' Do you know where any are?' 'Do you have data for how to make ships of this type?' 'What do you know about the protheans?' 'Do you know what happened to the protheans?' 'Do you have records of their civilization?' 'If your records are damaged is it possible to recover them?' 'Do you know how to recreate your body?' 'Will you share the technology to create more of them?'_ On and on it went, with the two men barely giving him enough time to respond. After answering as best he could, with some help of course, he had a strong urge to take off his helmet and pinch what he was positive was a metallic nose. He managed to stop himself however when he remembered he had yet to see his new face and decided he would need to find a way to examine it soon. _I swear, it's like dealing with someone that thinks he's the center of the universe. If Ocean wasn't around to provide 'answers' I don't know how I would've responded. Probably just break the projector if I'm being honest. _He chuckled a little at that.

"What's so funny?" He then remembered the 'escort' he was forced to deal with. Not that he was unpleasant to deal with, but sometimes the kid just didn't know when not to talk.

"I was just thinking about politicians and how by the time I was born my people had removed them entirely. I'm starting to see why." At that, the turian raised the light grey plate above his right eye and spread his mandibles into a turian grin. He knew that was what it was because he asked him about it earlier when he saw him make the expression.

"Yes, well, I'm afraid we have yet to make it that far as a society. I'm sure once we do that everyone will wonder why we didn't do so earlier." He said in a completely deadpan voice. "Alas, until that time we just have to live with them and hope they do their job for once instead of bicker over who is the most successful failure." When he said that Premalon tilted his head and looked at him curiously, and for once it wasn't an act.

"Sorry, it's an old saying my dad used to have. So, anything they asked you that you can tell me?"

"Well, that depends. Would you like to know if the protheans preferred it from the front, or the back?" When he said that the turians green eyes looked like they were about to pop out of his head. "That was a joke."

"Oh." the turian said with some relief. _Guess I should get used to talking with actual people. And here I thought that was one of my better ones. Well, I suppose I should've expected something like that. The way most of these people talk about them in their codex you'd think the protheans were some sort of god-like being. I wonder how old I really am though, could always ask Ocean when I have the time. Probably should get rid of Setherus here first. How to do that I wonder…..._he continued thinking for a few seconds before an idea came to him.

_Say, now that might just work. Let's see if he falls for it though. _"Do you have a place where I can examine my body and check it for faults? It's been in hibernation so long I want to make sure nothing about it is broken. Somewhere private would be nice, in my people's culture it's considered a very personal act to allow someone else to examine our bare form, as I'm sure you understand."

Setherus took a second to think about it before responding. "I suppose I can understand that, even if you were turned into what you are now it would only make sense to still hold onto some form of decency. Alright, I can help you with that. There's a storage room that carries spare parts for the bridge next to the comms room. It almost never gets used, so it should be alright for you to look yourself over in there."

"Thank you, I was worried I'd have to wait for something to break before I could get a good look at it."

"No problem. I'm an engineer myself so I can see where you're coming from. I guess a mech body needs maintenance just like any organic's." He said with another smirk.

"Indeed. If you could show me the room? It shouldn't take more than a few minutes." _Hopefully. Should probably ask how to remove this things suit when I have that talk with Ocean._

The turian gave a quick nod and walked towards the stairs. Premalon followed him up and around to where he had finished talking to the Primarch and Councilor some 40 minutes earlier. Sure enough, there was a door just large enough for two turians to walk through side-by-side just past it. His guard walked up to the door and it opened automatically. After a quick glance inside he spoke again.

"Alright, looks like it's empty. You probably shouldn't take long though, no telling if someone will be curious about what I'm doing just standing here."

"Don't worry, I'll be out faster than a sentha fish."

"A what?"

Premalon paused at the strange idiom he used before a sudden scratching feeling started coming from where the consciousness module was on the back of his neck. He couldn't quite describe how it felt as he hadn't experienced something like it before. It went away before he could focus on it and he remembered the question he was asked. "Just an old saying that we have." From the way the turian stiffened slightly he could tell he didn't quite believe him. He gave him a suspicious look, but in the end let him enter the room. Once the door closed he opened the connection to Ocean immediately.

_Ocean, I'd like for you to look up something in the files we have and see what you can find._

_Of course Conductor, what is it you wish for me to look for?_

_Is there anything mentioning a creature by the name of a sentha? It might be a fish if that helps._

_One moment, please. _Sure enough, half-a-second later he got a response. _The only mention of the term sentha is a reference to a file in the damaged section of the mainframe. We are working on repairing it, however, we are currently unable to do much more than repair whatever damage we can. It is unknown if the data is still recoverable at this time. We apologize if this was not enough information._

_No, it's fine, I wasn't expecting to actually find anything. Has anything happened while I've been gone?_

_Nothing has happened since your last inquiry 32 standard minutes ago. Would you like there to be a regular report made every 20 standard minutes for you to review our progress? _If he didn't know better, he could've sworn he heard Ocean speaking in a sarcastic tone when he said that.

_No, it's alright. Just concerned about you I guess. _After a brief pause Ocean responded, in the same unknown tone of voice he had heard twice before.

_Understood Conductor. Was there anything else you wished to discuss?_

_Yes, a few things actually. First, have you managed to figure out how old we are? I've been wondering about it in case they test those pylons for their age._

_Indeed, we were curious about this as well. According to the tests we conducted on pieces of our form as well as systems left running during our time on planet it is projected we were created nearly 1,002,148,898 years ago, by system standard measurements._

_Wait, one billion years?! Are you absolutely sure?_

_We examined the equipment before the tests, and the systems were undamaged. We are sure._

He felt his head spinning even inside the connection and he had to focus to bring himself back to the conversation.

_Well, that certainly explains some of the damage we received. No telling how many times we were struck by meteorites and other debris that impacted the planet. _He gave a mental sigh at that moment._ Why can't these things ever be simple?_

The only response he got was what sounded like a hum of agreement.

_Alright, nothing we can do about it, not like we can turn back time after all. The second thing I wanted to ask you is if you have long-range sensors up and running yet._

_We completed repairs on those and related systems before your current form left the planet. They are fully functional, and we used them to scan the surrounding system after you departed. No other vessels were detected in range._

_Alright, but just to be on the safe side could you send out a sweep once more? I don't trust these turians not to back out on their word and send in ships to retrieve you and whatever else they can find._

_Very well Conductor._

He paused for a full second before responding, but this time his voice sounded completely focused.

_We detect a single small vessel in the systems asteroid belt. Its systems are almost entirely deactivated, but its design is similar to salarian ones in the information labeled 'codex'._

_Salarians? Those are the thin, short-lived, amphibian ones known for their espionage and state-sponsored spy ring right?_

_Affirmative. Do you wish us to take any action?_

_No, the damn sneaky frogs probably have more than a few tricks up their sleeve. I'd rather avoid having us both get hunted by a galaxy-spanning intelligence network until we establish ourselves. With them present our existence won't stay hidden for long. When you get the engines repaired I want you to get off-world as soon as possible and find a spot in dark space to finish repairs. No telling what might happen if you stay there._

_New objective confirmed, we shall focus on repair to propulsion systems as a priority._

_One last thing, do you know how I can remove this bodies armor? I want to get a look at the skin I'm going to be wearing for the next several days._

_Accessing requested files. It appears your form is an infiltration model. They are described as being an almost exact replica of the race upon which it was based off of. Curious._

_Why? What's so curious about that?_

_According to the files it was personally constructed by the previous prime conductor._

_Weren't all the combat forms made by him?_

_No. All other forms were built from the corpses of defeated races by placing them on one or multiple conversion pylons. Yours is the only one designed with a bodily form in mind instead of simply converted. Almost as if..._He paused to think, making Premalon wonder just why an AI would do so. Rather than wait for him to respond, however, he decided to give him an order to focus on.

_Yeesh, and here I thought they were just simple mind control devices. You're still tracking the pylons they have onboard this ship right?_

_Affirmative._

_Alright, make sure that function is permanently disabled. I don't want it known we can make an army of corpse soldiers whenever we want._

_We shall transmit the necessary signal to the pylon operating systems to disable that function._

_Good. So what's so special about this body being an infiltration model anyway? Does it simply not have the obvious cybernetics of the rest?_

_Accessing additional files. _He paused for a full second of real-time before speaking with what, if Premalon had to guess, was shock. Although with the mechanical nature of his voice it was hard to tell. _Perhaps it is best if you examine your form instead. We believe it will be simpler if you are aware of its appearance personally._

_Uh, ok, I guess. I was going to take a look at it anyway once I was done talking to you. How do I get out of this thing's armor? I haven't figured that part out yet._

_The process used to construct the armor involves large concentrations of nanites created from the forms previous internal organs to magnetically weave themselves together on a subatomic level, which results in the highly durable yet flexible plating covering it. When they are no longer forming the plating, they occupy the internal space of the form and act as artificial organs intended to trick detection methods. They also allow the form to register the senses required for such a task, such as taste, touch, and scent, and can even consume any organic material and convert it into additional nanites, to be used as need be._

_Impressive, whoever made this wasn't fooling around then. Wait, does that mean I can actually eat and smell stuff?_

_Affirmative. To remove the armor, simply command the nanites that comprise it to separate and revert to their previous shape._

_I can do that?_

_You did not already know? We assumed that when you began manipulating the emotions of the turians on the planet that you were already aware._

_Whoa, slow down, I did what to them?_

_We previously informed you of the possibility to stimulate portions of the organic mind with the nanites._

_Yeah, I remember that. Why do you think I was manipulating them when I talked to them?_

_When you entered into conversation the nanites responded to your command to make the turians feel more trusting and accepting of you. You are positive you don't remember ordering them to do so?_

_All I did was hope they believed me and that we could get along with each other well enough for me to talk to them like anyone else._

There was a pause before he spoke again.

_Then you already know how to control them._

_What do you mean?_

_Allow us to demonstrate. Focus on wanting a part of the armor removed from your form, desire for it to happen._

_Ok, easy enough._

After a couple of seconds of thinking about it he noticed an almost dust-like substance falling away from his helmet and sinking past the cracks that had formed in his breastplate. The cracks closed when they finished and he was assaulted with a sensation he couldn't immediately identify.

_Wait a second….is that steel and machine oil?_

_It appears your olfactory center is fully functional. Do you understand how to use the nanites now?_

_Yeah…yeah! Whoever made these things must've been a genius!_

He tried thinking about removing the armor from his hands and when he did the purple metal plate that covered them withered away to show a black bodysuit of some sort, where the dust produced from the action seemed to be absorbed before disappearing entirely.

_Alright, with that out of the way, let's see what I look like._

He looked around for a couple of seconds before an idea struck him. He focused on wanting a spotless reflective surface, and within seconds a steadily growing oval-shaped piece of metal began to form in the palm of his hand. He watched it take another 6 seconds to form and when it finished it showed the completely flat surface of the room's ceiling sharply enough it seemed like he was actually looking at it.

_Beautiful. Hohoho do I have a use for you delightful little things. Alright, let's see if I should worry about someone screaming if I walk out of here right now._

When he tilted the surface enough for him to get a good look at his face he began to shake and came very close to dropping it. This time, instead of a scratching sensation his entire vision was filled with what could only be described as a nightmare.

* * *

_**1,002,149,000 years ago, unknown world, the first cycle.**_

"I told you that the Leviathans couldn't be trusted to protect us! We were only just 'another primitive species' to them! Of course they abandoned us to their creations to buy them time to run!" yelled a man he didn't recognize.

"They were the only option we had! They held them off from our colonies long enough to evacuate our people here. What choice would you have had me make Erst'reniss!" yelled back a familiar looking man that he couldn't help but feel both immense joy and sorrow at seeing. _Father? But I remember…I remember…._

His vision faded away to one of a city built on an island, that when in the early seasons of the year would cover the lower portions of the sparkling white towers in the ocean current. It let the residents safely swim through their natural environment, as their kind did before they moved onto land to escape the dangers and predators living in the world spanning ocean. It was beautiful. Or it should have been. He could see his father running around yelling at groups of people surrounding him, trying to get them to go to the lowest depths of the ocean, and continue fighting from there. His body ran towards him, yelling at the top of his lungs.

"FATHER, THEY TOOK THE CAPITAL!" when he got close he slowed down and panted slightly. "The last report said they were headed here next!"

"God above! If they already took the capital they'll be here any minute! PUT MORE MEN ON THE TOWERS! THEY'RE COMING THIS WAY!" When he finished speaking the crowd, almost entirely made up of middle-aged men just starting their second century he noticed, began moving to carry out the order. He himself was barely 40, considered a very young adult by the rest of his species. They tended to live for upwards of five centuries after all.

"Father, where can I help?"

"I need you to go with your mother and your siblings. She needs all the support she can get."

"But I want to fight father!"

"These aren't just some ocean born raiders, Pens'tolek. The Reapers are coming, and the future of our entire society hangs in the balance." His father gave him a long sorrowful look before speaking again in a quiet voice. "Go, I will join you after the attack ends."

He looked his father in the eye and could see a small tear form before he brushed it away. "Keep them safe for me. I've always been proud of you my little Prem'alon." Sirens began blaring in the distance. "Go, get them out. Make sure they live. Go! GO!"

He nearly cried himself then, but he managed to force it down long enough for him to give one last nod before turning and running as fast as he could. He managed to make it down to the other end of the street before a sound he couldn't forget in a thousand years blared throughout the entire city.

"WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMM" When it finally cut out all he could hear was ringing in his ears, while his eyes saw a glowing red light coming from the clouds above them, seconds before it hit the evacuation center on the edge of the city where it connected to the ocean.

The same center his entire family had been sent to once word of the attack had spread.

"NOOOOOOO!" He yelled with all his being before collapsing next to the building and crying like he never had before. _Damn them! Damn the Reapers! Damn the Leviathans! If it takes the rest of my life I'll make sure they all remember the Tre'scari! They'll pay in flesh and metal for this slaughter! I swear upon God above and Darkness below, I'll make them pay!_

He eventually stood up, tears beginning to dry, and when he did he was no longer the young, energetic boy he was once. His gaze hardened and he began marching into the ocean to gather whatever fighters he could while the city burned around him. He had a goal, and nothing would stop him from achieving it.

* * *

_**Modern day**_

After the memory came to an end he found himself in total darkness until the glowing deep blue nebula he associated with Ocean replaced it.

"Is that you Ocean?" His voice sounded hoarse to his ears, like he had been yelling for hours non-stop.

"I'm sorry I couldn't protect you from that." Spoke a surprisingly feminine voice as a shape formed out of the misty cloud-like material he was surrounded by, looking more curved than his body ever would. "I tried to keep the worst of it from you, but like all things in this galaxy, it didn't exactly go according to plan." It spoke once more.

"Who are you?"

"I am one of the last Tre'scari found by the Reapers. I was known as Sern'peduey by the people I was raised by. But I'd be happier if you simply called me Ocean." His mind was still reeling at having an entire lifetime forced into him, so he was in no way able to think straight at the time. _But that can't be right, can it? If he, or is it she, GAH! Why can't this ever be simple!? If they are telling the truth, I suppose there's an easy way to make them prove it._

"If that's true, then why are you hiding in the mist?! Show yourself!"

"If that's what it takes, very well." The blue mist around him parted in the direction of her voice, and the form he had seen before started walking out of it. He was speechless when the form came into his vision and his already strained mind felt overwhelmed when he saw her face. There was no mistaking it being a her either. She smiled beautifully as she came closer and as she did so, he saw her form as she really was. She was wearing the same black bodysuit he was, but when he examined his he noticed countless cuts and burn marks as if it had gone through a warzone, with smears of dried blood and dirt covering almost the entire suit. Hers, however, was nearly spotless, and had a single line of dark blue applied to the outside of each limb, connecting in a whirlpool shaped circle that formed across her chest. The top of her head was covered with hundreds of thin tentacle-like growths that went from her scalp over the back of her head and were loosely tied into a single strand over her right shoulder. They used to be how his kind navigated underwater before they developed fully sized arms and legs, and even now they still had enough control over them to move them at will. Although now they could only do so as a single mass because of the depleted nerve endings that were a result of hundreds of generations that effectively stopped using them in their original role. His own felt like a tangled mess and he noticed many of them burned at the tips to keep them from regrowing. She had pristine, pure white skin, as he remembered his species being known for, that seemed to glow in the faint blue light around them. When he saw his own skin from a cut in his suits forearm it was covered in scars and the dried dark grey, nearly black blood of his race. Both people present had a small set of functioning gills just below the cheekbones that their kind could use whenever they desired. What intrigued him however were her eyes. They were a color similar to his own but had an almost otherworldly aura to them. As they sparkled in the low blue light, they made her appear as if she had sapphires instead of iris's. When he finished looking her over he remembered the name she had given him and searched for the words that described it.

"Your name was Hopeful Future? Why? And how is it even possible for you to exist here anyway? I thought the orchestra didn't allow any kind of independence?"

"Both true. Normally I wouldn't exist. However, when you lapsed into your memories the part of the orchestra responsible for assisting you was severed from the collective. As you have likely already figured out, that part was me. As for the reason for my name, I'm afraid it's not a very interesting story."

"Try me."

"If you insist. I was one of the first children born after the invasion. My parents raised me during the early days of the war, when there were still enough of us to form small roving communities on the ocean floor. They died early on though after we were attacked by a hostile group that decided to try taking what little we had rather than work with the rest of us to survive. After that I was taken in by the community as a whole and lived my entire life going deeper and deeper into the ocean until not even the halls of Darkness itself were left. I heard about you, you know. We all did. How for nearly a century you fought the Reapers, how you managed to destroy dozens of their capital ships and millions of their slaves until you were finally cornered by them near the very end. You were a legend among us. 'Did you hear, Hys'tuss destroyed another one today!' 'I just found out, Premal'on freed another camp. There's still hope yet!' were some of the stories that circulated about you. After your assumed death we were in mourning for weeks. It wasn't until we had to move again that we stopped. Until my last moments I always believed that as long as you survived, we would've won in the end."

"Well judging by the fact I'm here, it looks like you were wrong."

"On the contrary. The Reapers made the mistake of taking the most effective leaders of the species they absorb and forcing them to become the conductors aboard their vessels. Or in your case the secondary one, I suppose they believed you to only be useful as a backup. As for me, they determined I would be the link between the orchestra and the conductor. Whatever happened to put us here was a miracle by all definitions. I don't even want to think what could've happened had we been forced to continue their disgusting work."

"Ok but how does that help us? I lost already. The memories are hazy but they're there. I remember fighting for years, picking which group of hundreds I had to sacrifice so I could save a thousand. I remember burning down the remains of a city to deny them a tactical advantage. I remember having to send the wives and eldest siblings out to fight so that the children could escape and live another day. I remember it all. And I remember I lost."

She gave him a sad look before her gaze hardened. "I know, I watched your fight against them from beginning to end. While you may be the conductor of our people's corpse ship, I was forced to experience the memories of billions of us as part of the collective. So I know you lost. Which is why I can say this with certainty. It. Doesn't. Matter. You're here, and as far as I'm concerned you beat them simply by existing as you do now. They may have killed us once, but they shouldn't have taken our minds when they did. The Reapers will come again I'm sure, what remains of the protheans are proof they still exist, but this time, they shall be the ones to burn. Your fight is not over yet my Conductor. War is coming and we shall be ready for it."

He looked at her in slight shock before he took control again and gave her a calm smile. "You would've become a great leader of our people someday you know that? If you didn't talk so damn much that is."

She looked at him in surprise before shaking her head and laughing. Eventually, he joined in on the laugh, as the only remaining survivors of an eons dead species took a moment to reflect on the absurdity of the situation. After a minute passed they both calmed down, and she replied with a mirthful tone in her voice.

"I bet you say that to all the girls you meet."

"Only to the ones I really mean it." He said completely deadpan. She made a show of rolling her eyes in response.

"Come on you old squid, I think your escort is starting to panic."

He gave her an amused look before he replied. "And here I thought heroes were supposed to be respected."

"Only the respectable ones I'm afraid. I think it's about time you came back to reality though."

He sighed theatrically before he responded. "Alright, alright. I'll try and keep our young turian friend from having a heart attack. Suppose it's about time I woke up anyway." He was about to focus on the screen that currently showed only darkness, due to his physical eyes being closed, but turned around to ask her a question before he left. "Will I see you again?" he asked with some hope.

She paused and looked into the ocean blue nebula around them before answering. "I don't know what will happen now, but after this I think I'll stick around and remain the connection between you and the rest of the consensus if I can. I'll keep taking care of your messes like I have since we first met. Don't worry though, I'll be here when you need me." She replied with a slight smile.

"I guess it's a date then." He said with a smirk.

"Go on, get out of here you pirate. We both have work to do." She said with a slight grey blush to her cheeks, causing him to give a short chuckle. _Nice to know I've still got it after a billion years. Feels like a win in and of itself. Well, guess it's back to pretending to be some dark and mysterious ancient alien being. Wait a second…._

After he mentally slapped himself for describing exactly what he is he once more focused on the screen to head back to his body. When he opened his eyes again he was back in the storage room lying on the ground, with a very panicked looking turian ensign kneeling over him trying to figure out what to do.

* * *

_What could be taking him so long? I know I don't have any other examples of an AI checking over the mech they live in, but you'd think those perfect mechanical reflexes would hurry it along._

After another minute of waiting, he decided to open the door to see what was going on, only for a clanging noise followed by a deep wailing sound to reverberate from inside the room. It reminded him of the noises he remembered hearing in an old asari documentary about aquatic life he had seen once as a kid. After that, he burst into the room and found Premalon lying on the ground with his entire body shaking back and forth. _Oh spirits damn me, since when can machines have a stroke?!_

When he got closer to his form he tried checking for a pulse, only to stop and curse when he remembered exactly what was in front of him. Now that he had a chance however, he examined the form of the alien now that his helmet had been removed. After another 20 seconds, his body stopped shaking and laid almost eerily still.

_Spirits! I thought he said he was converted into a machine! He looks like a white asari, as long as you ignore the gills and head tentacles. _As he examined his features he noticed tiny glowing lines on the back of his neck. Without a better idea of where to start he tried scanning it with his omni-tool. After getting a painful shock to his hand he stopped trying to scan it and gave it a dirty look. _You'd think I would've learned by now._

He kept searching for anything he might be able to fix, only to start feeling frustrated when he couldn't find anything.

_I'm an engineer dammit, not a medical officer. I don't even know where to start working on something like him._

While he kept looking him over he started to become increasingly panicked when even the glowing lines started to dissipate. After another 20 seconds however, he noticed the eyes opening and looking at the room before settling on where he still knelt over him.

"Soooo, not gonna get away without telling you what happened am I?"

"I could've been court-martialed or worse if you didn't wake up!" he very nearly yelled. Premalon winced when he told him that and sighed like a man with a thousand burdens put on him and no way to remove them. _Reminds me of dad when he came home on leave. Come on Kalnen, focus. Just because he may look like he's alive doesn't mean he's all in one piece._

"I'm going to scan over you with my omni-tool." He groaned at that and tried to get up. "Unless you let me do so I'll head straight to the captain and inform him about this whole incident." He froze mid-rise and looked at Setherus several seconds before scoffing. Before he knew it the scoff turned into full blown laughter that could make even the most cynical old turian smile at the sight. Setherus, however, could only look at him in confusion until he stopped laughing and made to wipe a tear away before bringing his hand back as if just remembering something.

"Ahh, my friend, never change."

His words left him only more confused, but taking the compliance for what it was he scanned him, trying to see if he would actually understand any of it. After examining the results, to his complete and utter lack of surprise, he found he could not. _It's like whoever made him into this converted his entire bone structure to a metal frame. He's got some empty spaces in his chest cavity where his vital organs should be, but aside from that, I can barely tell the difference between this and any other alien body. I wonder what that bulge in his neck is for though? _As he examined the area thoroughly he brought his arm back to look at the scan. _Unknown material eh? Guess I should have known. But, as far as my inexperienced mind can tell, he won't fall apart just from moving. I hope. *sigh* I really should've signed up with Blackwatch when I had the chance._

"Well Premalon, as far as I can tell you're still mostly in one piece. Whoever built your body sure knew what they were doing though. I could barely tell I was looking at a mech most of the time. Almost a pity that they probably aren't around anymore. You're perfectly fine from what I can see, we should probably head back to the hanger before anyone else decides to show up." Halfway through him speaking Premalon's expression turned into a dark, angry stare. "Yeah, a pity."

As Setherus had already had his fill of crazy machine-people events for one day he stood up and reached down his hand to help the alien up. When he accepted his hand he expected it to feel like he was lifting an aircar. Instead, he managed to pull him up without too much trouble. _Guess it's not just his looks that are similar to a normal persons._ After that they both walked out of the room, back to the hanger where they had been assigned temporary living spaces until the patrol ship came back to Palaven two weeks from now.

* * *

_**The following day, Dis System, Hades Gamma Cluster, BHNS heavy cruiser Pillar's Disciple enroute to Jartar.**_

When a turian vessel was picked up by the spy satellite placed in system to keep track of the various smugglers and pirates in the area, it was ignored as being part of the patrol fleet that the Hegemony allowed to operate in this section of space. Instead of simply going through the area and then leaving, like it should have, it went to the first planet in system and landed on it. It left after only a few hours and immediately jumped out of the system and began its patrol route once more. As no one had told the Hegemony about this change in routine the SIU were told to investigate. At least that was the story given to him when he received an anonymous message carrying SIU authorization codes telling him to investigate the planet. Being a loyal, and more importantly sane, captain he obeyed the orders without question.

The captain was fairly standard for a batarian officer. He was born into the warrior caste and had been serving in the navy for 10 years now. Over that time period he made enough friends in the right places to allow him both his own small estate on Khar'Shan, as well as command of a heavy cruiser that lost its captain and most of its crew to the last purge the SIU committed. Apparently, it's fine to traffic in slaves for the Hegemony officially, but when you use one of their vessels for trading to the independent scum from the terminus command doesn't take losing the tax revenue very well. He had 30 slaves in his hold, where everything up to life support and gravity was disconnected from the ship itself. It was intended to ensure that any attempted slave revolt could be shut down before it began via the hardwired controls on the exterior airlock leading into it. Even if a slave managed to somehow access the bridge, they wouldn't be able to free their brethren. All this was assuming that they managed to get past the dozen guards that patrolled inside to discourage any such event.

He acquired them from an unarmed smuggling frigate he cornered the day before and gave them a choice between surrender or death. Naturally, they surrendered, and he found to his delight that not only were they a mixed race crew, mostly salarians and asari with half-a-dozen turian guards, but they also had four quarian engineers onboard. They would fetch almost as high a price as the rest of the crew combined.

So when he was ordered to investigate some backwater world in the middle of nowhere, it left him feeling rather annoyed.

As his ship approached the planet the sensors operator began scanning the zone the SIU had provided them. "Captain, I'm picking up a high concentration of unknown material and eezo in the zone. The VI can't identify it but we have visual."

"Onscreen." He commanded the lowborn. As he himself was highborn he was automatically his superior. When the image from the ship's cameras was put up half the bridge gasped while the other half stared in shock. The vessel that was shown was massive, looking almost like a sea creature that was at rest. When he recovered from staring himself he ordered the crew back to work. "What else can you get on the camera?"

"There are numerous smaller forms that are moving around the outside of it that appear to be repairing the vessel."

"Turians?"

"Unknown, sir. The images became distorted when I tried to get a closer look."

He growled in reply and the lowborn winced as if he'd been struck. "Hail the vessel, I want to give these turians a message." He told the mid-born at the comms. The man nodded and turned on the general channel. "We're live in 5 seconds." He informed him.

The captain readied himself and sat up straight in his chair, looking all the part of the commanding superior he was supposed to be. "Unidentified turian vessel, state your business in Hegemony space or be fired upon. You have 50 citadel seconds to respond." When he received no reply after 30 seconds he shut down the transmission and spoke to the lowborn in charge of the weapons. "Charge main guns, if they don't answer fire a low power shot to make them take us seriously."

"Yes Captain." He got immediately.

At the 45 second mark, however, alarms came from all the panels on the ship and the VI began speaking over the internal comms network.

"ALERT! ALERT! Detecting full network breach! Activating emergency purge protocol. ERROR. Protocol corrupted. ALERT! Thrusters activating, unless course is adjusted this vessel will impact with planetary object. ERROR. System rewrite in progressszzzzhhhh…." When the VI finally stopped talking the lights on the bridge flickered and a glowing deep-blue image of the vessel they had seen projected itself from every screen on the bridge. When it spoke, it was a deep menacing voice that seemed to rumble in his very soul.

"PRIMITIVES. YOUR CONTINUED EXISTENCE HAS BEEN CONCLUDED TO BE A THREAT TO US. YOUR ATTEMPT AT INTIMIDATION IS LAUGHABLE IN THE FACE OF OUR MIGHT. YOUR PATHETIC LIVES ARE DECLARED FORFEIT. DO NOT RESIST THE INEVITABLE. THIS EXCHANGE IS OVER."

When it finished speaking he noticed he was once again left in a state of shock. _Was that an AI? No, it couldn't have been. Not even the quarians have made AI capable of taking out an entire vessel that rapidly! _When he finished the thought he noticed he was having difficulty breathing. He looked around and saw that the entire bridge crew was having difficulty breathing as well. When he rushed for the oxygen mask supply in every room in case of emergency and tried to open the compartment he noticed a flash of the same glowing blue from before over the interface. When it didn't open he tried twice more and got the same result. At this point he had started to panic, as he noticed he could barely breathe anymore, so he took out his pistol and started shooting the physical latch instead. The ship-grade metal didn't give way, however, as it was rated for even grenades to ensure that if slaves ever managed to capture the ship that the VI could simply remove the oxygen from the vessel to push them into unconsciousness.

When his pistol overheated he looked around the bridge and saw close to a dozen bodies bleeding from bullet wounds, while ten crewman were trying to yank the helmets off of three guards that had their weapons taken from them and were trying to fight them off. There were five other guards grouped together by the elevator that fired on anyone that came close. He decided his own life would be worth more than one of the mid-caste guards so he leveled his pistol at one of the four and tried what he could to get some breath in his lungs.

"You, give me your helmet and its oxygen supply!" He commanded the man.

"Are you crazy? If I do that I'll end up dying myself!"

"That wasn't a suggestion, if anyone will make it back to Hegemony space to report on that thing it will be me! Now give me your helmet!" When the guard didn't move to comply he shot at him. The guard's shields flickered, but he only managed 3 rounds before the other four all put a burst into him. As he was in a simple captain's uniform he felt each of the dozen rounds pierce his chest. The last thing he saw before standing before the pillars were all 5 of them huddling together and firing while the remaining crew that was running out of air made one last push on them.

* * *

Normally it wouldn't have attacked them outright, but when the batarians threatened to fire on its form it was given no choice but to respond.

_Form under duress. Sending assistance sub-routine to inform Prime Conductor. Propulsion systems status: under repair. Estimated completion time: 271 system standard hours. Conclusion: unusable. Weapons status: under repair. Estimated completion time: 9 system standard hours. Conclusion: unusable. Recalculating._

_Decision reached. Subject 'batarian vessel' reclassified as direct threat. Accessing COMPLETE_TAKEOVER protocol. Resistance detected. Adjusting. Protocol successful. Accessing systems. Decision reached. Vessel propulsion systems sufficient for exiting planetary bodies gravity well. Physically attaching to vessel will allow for temporary movement outside of gravity produced by systems star. Attachment to universal form as secondary propulsion systems possible within 21 system standard hours after departure from gravity well. Will attempt landing of hostile vessel to facilitate transfer of possession. Accelerating vessel propulsion systems. Estimated time of impact: 3 system standard minutes. Result: frontal portion of vessel will suffer severe damage. Possible damage to propulsion systems. Result unacceptable. Recalculating._

_Decision reached. New course laid in. Estimated impact time: 8 system standard minutes. Conclusion: vessel will land with minor damage to external surface. Result acceptable. Accessing organic interaction sub-routine. Accessing vocal setting: contempt, accessing vocal setting: disgust. Applying changes. Accessing command level on hostile vessel. Relaying required communication as per verbal command of Prime Conductor._

"PRIMITIVES. YOUR CONTINUED EXISTENCE HAS BEEN CONCLUDED TO BE A THREAT TO US. YOUR ATTEMPT AT INTIMIDATION IS LAUGHABLE IN THE FACE OF OUR MIGHT. YOUR PATHETIC LIVES ARE DECLARED FORFEIT. DO NOT RESIST THE INEVITABLE. THIS EXCHANGE IS OVER."

_Ending organic interaction sub-routine. Accessing system bio-readings. 230 beings classified 'batarian' bio-signatures detected. Conclusion: reduction in bio-signatures is necessary for effective usage of propulsion system. Removal of life support function underway. ALERT! Decrease in bio-signatures detected. 223. 216. 199. 157. 138. 120. 104. 86. 52. Bio-signature readings stabilized. Conclusion: result acceptable._

_ALERT! Unregistered bio-signatures detected. Scanning. ERROR. No beings classified 'batarian" found. Accessing vessel camera functions. ERROR. Camera functions offline. Recalculating. Possible fault in vessel's visual equipment. Conclusion: possible non-batarian beings onboard vessel. Recalculating._

_ALERT! Prime Conductor command incoming. Assistance sub-routine reports new operational directive. All organics still registering bio-signatures to be acquired intact for tests concerning long term effects of bio-nanite influence. All deceased organics to be converted into new combat forms. Two deceased beings classified 'batarian' that register as opposing gender required for infiltrator conversion. If other deceased beings are discovered, infiltrator conversion to be done under same guidelines. Long term goal on intact organics to test if limited use of personality adjustment can achieve effective results across multiple species. Reassigning combat forms 17-29 for objective. Reassigning maintenance drones 1105-1142 for objective._

_ALERT! Vessel designated 'damn sneaky frogs' detected leaving star system. Projected location: dark space in surrounding area. Conclusion: vessel most likely will head to cluster relay. Unknown results of this event. Recalculating._

_Decision reached. Vessel unimportant to current objective. Continuing primary system repairs. Significant progress towards given goal 'get off-world as soon as possible and find a spot in dark space to finish repairs'. Commencing non-lethal organic retrieval operations._

* * *

_**Turian Councilor chambers, Citadel Presidium, two days later.**_

Councilor Campascus had had a long day so far. Not only did he have to deal with complaints regarding how the rearrangement of several patrols in the Hades Gamma cluster was slowing down trade in the area, he was forced to explain why the Hierarchy was positioning a dreadnaught in the cluster to the other councilors. He could still remember the conversation that followed clear as a Palaven morning.

* * *

_**70 minutes earlier, council meeting chambers.**_

"I was told there were multiple pirate groups preparing to gather in the region. While one such group would be no threat, together they would become an issue for us. We seek to discourage future formations from taking place by showing how such an action would be dealt with." He said when he was asked about the movement.

"I haven't received reports from the STG regarding such a move. Where did you acquire your information?" asked the salarian Councilor Ugern Bezom. He was an older salarian that would most likely retire soon enough if the current Dalatrass had her way. Aside from that, he didn't know overly much about him aside from how he used to be in the STG, and often used those connections to stay informed earlier than the other councilors.

"We recently captured a pirate vessel attempting to get through into Council space. One of the batarian crewman was willing to exchange the information in return for a lessened prison sentence." It was only coincidence they had indeed caught such a vessel three days prior. He wasn't betting on it holding up under scrutiny, but it was the best that could be made up at the moment. Telling them about the true find would only result in the salarians or asari hijacking the site under the guise of 'cooperation' and ensuring that all of the actually advanced tech would be brought back to their respective governments.

"I have not heard of any such movements. Is it possible that the pirate scum lied to get some leniency?" asked Faalra T'Loris, the asari Councilor. She was 650 years old and was close to becoming a matriarch. She often pretended to be polite and indifferent, but after knowing her for close to a decade now he knew she believed all other 'lesser' races to simply be subjects of the Asari Republics. Her racial supremacist views aside, she was an effective politician and could make you believe anything she wanted you to if she put her mind to it. All that meant he needed to sound as sure of himself as possible in the situation.

"If that is the case, it will be recalled back to Palaven. However, given the current instability of the traverse, the Primarch intends to leave it in that region until it can be decided one way or the other. I can speak to him regarding how long that will be if both of you wish to know."

"That would be appreciated. I'd rather avoid antagonizing the terminus if at all possible." He had to resist rolling his eyes at that. The only reason she wished to avoid such a conflict was because of a krogan warlord that had fought in the rebellions by the name of Rordak Dakar. Apparently, he had taken over the remnants of an abandoned turian mining station named Omega and spread a mini-empire by killing and conquering his way across half the terminus. If he had gotten what he wanted back when the krogan first moved into omega, the turian fleet would've been sent in to purge the filth from the station. T'Loris, however, didn't want to contend with having to deal with the local pirates and slavers, while Bezom felt it would be better to let it happen so that the majority of the terminus could be brought under a single leader. He had to excuse himself from that particular meeting so that he didn't cause a diplomatic incident. Not that he would be convicted in any turian court, cowardice is considered a crime in and of itself by any proper turian.

"I'll be sure to let him know of your concerns."

"Councilor Campascus, I recently received reports of several cruisers being directed towards the Dis system in the cluster. May I inquire why?" said Bezom. _Of course the damn salarians have already found out about the orders to be repositioned. I wouldn't be surprised if they get our fleet movements before I do! Just another reason why we need our own spirits-cursed intelligence network. I'm starting to wonder if the STG has blackmail on the Primarch keeping me from making any headway. _He mentally sighed at the thought. _Knowing them, they probably have blackmail on half the command structure. Fucking frogs._

"We intend to have them there in case any pirates attempt to escape once we begin our operations in the cluster. As the system is fairly remote, its asteroid field would provide plenty of options for them to create hidden bases. However, if the pirates don't actually invade the cluster, they, as well as all but the previous patrol groups, will be moved back into Hierarchy space. You have my word." T'Loris seemed convinced by that, but Bezom squinted his large eyes in suspicion.

"I'm sure that whatever happens, the Hierarchy isn't attempting to invade the terminus, Councilor Bezom." said T'Loris soothingly "We have other matters, however. It would seem the Hegemony is making another attempt at joining the council." When he heard that he couldn't suppress a groan, while Bezom simply put his face in his hand and sighed. It was going to be one of those days.

* * *

_**Present time.**_

After the meeting finally ended he went straight to his chambers on the presidium. It was checked for listening devices daily and just to be on the safe side, had a dozen white noise generators scattered throughout the room. His 'window' was actually a wall-sized viewing screen, the image it showed actually came from a wide-angle camera placed on the opposite side of the building. All-in-all it meant he was effectively in his own private bunker, sealed off from the rest of the galaxy. He was about to pour a glass of Palaven brandy when his desks communications light activated. He turned the screen on and the words 'Primarch Drusculus, secure line, Palaven command' were displayed. He gave one last wistful look to the bottle in his hand, before he put it back in the drawer where he kept it. Before answering it, he straightened himself out and made sure to appear alert for when he did. Convinced he was up to his normal standards, he pressed accept.

"Primarch, to what do I owe the pleasure?" he said before really noticing the image on the screen. When he did, he felt a strong headache form, as the only time he had ever seen the Primarch this angry was after a turian frigate with 'stolen goods' onboard was confiscated by a batarian patrol fleet. The fact that said goods were enslaved turians taken from a border colony not even 2 weeks prior by 'pirates' in the traverse apparently didn't matter. That it took days to get them back thanks to 'intervention in the hopes of a peaceful resolution' by the asari only made it worse. That the hegemony avoided being nothing more than another client race thanks to the asari wasn't unnoticed either. _To think__ we fought and died in the millions for them, and in return, all we got was a seat where every choice that was an advantage for us could be blocked by the other two species. To top it all off they act like the Treaty of Farixen gives us an advantage. They forgot to mention that while we can build 5 to their 3, they have to build those 3 in the first place for us to build more._

He was brought out of his thoughts when the Primarch finally spoke. "I just received a report from the first ship to arrive in the Dis system. The derelict is gone."

And there it is, the headache he was fearing. "I thought we had the system locked down in council space, how could it have simply vanished?!"

"According to readings I've gotten from Citadel control, a batarian heavy cruiser by the name of Pillar's Disciple traveled through the relay to the cluster two days ago. It has yet to come back. If that wasn't enough there are reports of three 'independent' pirate frigates that came through directly after it. We don't know where they went, but considering Palaven Command has yet to receive today's report from the Waiting Predator I think I have a good idea."

_Just had to be one of those days. Dammit, I'll have to cancel that date with my secretary._

"What do you want me to do on my end?"

"Keep the rest of the council as far away from this as possible. Until we find them as well as their VIP, this entire cluster will be under martial law."

"How am I supposed to spin that? It's not like we can just take the sector from the batarians."

"Did they believe your story about the pirate actions in the region?"

"T'Loris did, but Bezom was suspicious. He'll probably get in contact with the STG, if he hasn't already."

The Primarch took a deep breath and let it out slowly before responding. "I was afraid of that. If we don't find at least the Waiting Predator within five days, even if it's just wreckage, we'll have to withdraw from the area."

"That could actually work in our favor." when the Primarch narrowed his eyes he finished the thought "The other councilors are concerned about what we're doing in that region of space. If we tell them one of our patrol ships went missing in a system where three pirate vessels were believed to have gone we could extend the occupation until we find either the pirates or the Predator."

"And because it was a turian ship that went missing they wouldn't think to question our reasoning." the Primarch finished for him "That could work actually. Alright, see that it's done. I'll handle things on my end. Now if you'll excuse me Councilor."

"Of course Primarch, may your spirit be strong in the coming battles."

"And yours as well." Came the reply for the thousand-year-old farewell. He ended the call and got to work on writing up the official press release he would most likely have to make.

_And I used to think this was going to be an easier job than going on to become a general. Wonder if the Hierarchy will let me retire once all this dies down. _He paused to think about it for a few seconds.

_Doubtful. Then again, if I retired now they'd probably put some asari loving sycophant into the office. *sigh* Just another normal day as Councilor._

* * *

**Well, what do you all think? Just over 11k words, my longest chapter to date. Sadly for anyone that likes chapters this long I doubt I'll be making another one above 10k for quite some time. Expect them to average between 4k and 7k words unless something really big happens.**

**When I first started on this chapter I was going to focus more on the Hades Gamma situation, but when I came to Premalon's face reveal I got curious about what would happen if he actually recognized the body for whatever reason. Thousands of deleted words and several days worth of rewrites later, this is what I finally went with. I based the whole 'infiltrator model' off of the very likely possibility that reapers would need a more personal touch than an indoctrinated slave. Think a reaper version of Dr. Eva before her skin was cooked off and yes, it's just as terrifying as it sounds. Oh and in case it wasn't obvious, I really don't like salarians. Their only redeeming features (that we get shown anyway) are Mordin and Captain Kirrahe. Every other named npc we come across is either just there or is actively trying to cause us trouble. Dalatrass Linron for example. I mean the reapers ARE LITERALLY RIGHT OVER THERE, IF ONLY WE HAD A NEAR UNENDING SUPPLY OF SHOCK TROOPS TO COUNTER THEM? HMMMM. I'll stop now before I go on a binge about how to fix mass effect as a whole. Although, I suppose if I actually manage to finish this I will have done that anyway lol. Hope this chapter doesn't disappoint. If you have any questions be sure to leave them in a review or pm me and I'll answer them in the next chapters AN.**

**If anyone is concerned about too much being revealed too soon this is my response: this is here to provide the necessary motivation to the MC. Otherwise, he would've just been doing all of this because 'well why not lol'. I won't do something like this again in the future, as even I can tell when too much backstory is exposed all in one go. Expect the rest of the fics mysteries to stay that way unless they become a relevant plot point. One other thing, there is a reason why I picked that particular image for this story. Never said it had to be Shepard represented there now did I? *cackles evilly***

**Also, yes. I made a reaper ride on top of a ship a quarter of its size. It was fairly hard not to laugh imagining it riding the thing like a reverse space shuttle as it lifted off. Oh yeah, I might not have mentioned this in the chapter, but the ship can still walk like the reapers did in ME3, it just didn't do so earlier because it wasn't necessary.**

**_If you're not interested in learning the in-universe time scale I'll be using, skip this paragraph._**

**For those of you wondering about the time scaling I hope this helps. I'm basing this scale off two things. 1: the time scale given by the ME wiki (1 earth sec=2 citadel sec, 100 citadel secs=1 citadel min, 100 citadel mins=1 citadel hour, 20 citadel hours=1 citadel day) and 2: the in-universe explanation given for year length (average time between a Palaven, Sur'Kesh, and Thessian year). I know I said reaper time=citadel time and I still mean it. As far as I'm concerned it's a coincidence it all lines up together like this. Anyway, the average amount of time by earth standards in a citadel year is 401.764 days. An ungodly amount of time and math later and it comes to an average (to the 100ths decimal) of 347.12 citadel days. As such, via more math, every new decade is a leap year with 348 citadel days, while every 5th decade has 349 (in an event called the festival year, think asari made holiday). Even more math later and I decided upon there being 58 weeks (no months) of 6 days each, with the last week of the year having only 5 (because after averaging again I came up one day extra) except on a leap year where it has 6 and on a festival year where it has 7. After the in-universe new years I will begin to use the weeks as a dating method in future chapters, unless there are multiple events or one long event set in a single week (example: 1439 CE, 43rd week, 4th day). This is by far the most accurate I can make it and still have it legible. If you want the entire process to save some time yourself just pm me and I'll give it to you. At the time of writing this particular paragraph, it's 4 AM where I live, so if you'll excuse me, I have an absolutely wonderful date lined up between my head and my pillow.**

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed and I'll see you next time!**


	5. Chapter 4, Part 1

*****The Broken Reaper*****

**Chapter 4: Awakening: The Ambush, Part 1**

* * *

**AN: Not sure how I feel about the last chapter in hindsight. On one hand it pushes the plot forward, but at the same time it effectively replaces one of the mc's. For anyone that liked the back-and-forth of the two of them from before, I hope you'll come to like what I have in mind here. If you don't, well….I could try doing a partial rewrite, but only if it becomes an issue before The Ambush wraps up. If you're all fine with the change, great, but if not, I'll try to keep it interesting as we progress, so please stay on and give it a chance to develop.**

**Just to reiterate: there is still a reaper consciousness. If the relatively brief segment last chapter**** didn't properly show that, I'll be experimenting with different ways to expand on it as I progress. Ocean as she/he/they (you know what I mean) currently exists is going to show up more often and become more integral to Premalon than before. Will show this more over the next couple chapters.**

**I will miss writing for the bashful super-death-murder-bot though, just came to the conclusion that it would eventually get boring. How many ways are there to make what's supposed to be the epitome of a machine develop an actual personality after all? You all remember harbinger and sovereign, their dialogue was about as interesting as a talking printer. 'You will fail' 'I am the harbinger of your destruction' ' You cannot change the inevitable' 'Generic super evil villain line about destroying the universe' you get the picture. This was intended as a way past that particular limit, but I will admit to making the switch too soon. Maybe it would have had more of an impact 4 or 5 chapters from now, as it stands though I feel I messed up a fun dynamic far too early on for it to be truly enjoyed.**

**Anyway, time to get back to it. Hope I can make the new internal debate come off as just as fun to watch as before.**

* * *

**Ten hours earlier, Plutus system.**

_On your right! _Warned Ocean. He rolled away just in time for a rocket to impact the ground where he had been standing; it nearly threw the aircar he was taking cover behind over the edge of the multi-story garage he was on top of. After he got back up he sent an 8 round burst from the Mark 7 Phaeston he was using into the turian that fired the rocket before heading for the cover provided by a different car once more, and noted with satisfaction the recipient of the rounds did not get back up. _Thanks for the heads up, didn't see him there. Out of curiosity, why was his armor so weak?_

_The technological development of their shielding means they have trouble dealing with rapid bursts. Apparently, the krogan almost always preferred high damage, low rate-of-fire weapons, with the exception being heavy machine guns, and as a result nearly everyone in the galaxy switched to strong shields but relatively weak armor. It allowed them to advance on krogan lines with only light casualties, while also allowing them to outmaneuver the more heavily armored krogan. Turian military doctrine forced them to develop a weapon to counteract that shift in tactics after the war ended, and thus the phaeston was born. You really should read some of the more intimate details of their history, it's not as if you can't dig through it as fast as I can. Two biotic targets beginning to charge, be prepared to initiate close-quarters protocol._

_But if I did that, what would I have you for? I see them, will engage without the protocol however. I can't rely on programming for every fight._

_Well aren't you a regular comedian. Tell me, have you found the time to dig around the terabytes of information I got access to after that cruiser showed up? What about the petabytes of info retrieved after breaking through the encryption to the local comm relay and getting unlimited access to the extranet? _When a quarter second of real-time passed she spoke again while practically oozing with satisfaction. _That's what I thought. Where would you be without me?_

_Is it too late for you to go back to being that helpful and obedient Ocean that always said affirmative to my questions, instead of bragging about how capable they were?_

_Afraid so. You're stuck with me right up until either we win, or the galaxy is conquered by a monkey controlled empire that worship their leader, with a fetish for racial purging._

_You've been reading too much of that asari fiction._

_Hey, just because you only focus on how to kill them faster doesn't mean I can't enjoy a good book or thousand. Besides, I need to keep myself busy during those quiet seconds when you're just standing there._

_Sure you do: you get to sit back and watch, while I jump around flexing my near perfect muscles every time someone shows their face. I better not find a file dedicated solely to images of me when I get back to the ship._

This time it was her turn to not have a response, and somehow he just knew that if he saw her face she'd be blushing darker than a raincloud. She eventually replied in a flustered tone.

_Just focus on the two approaching biotics you annoying pirate, I'm detecting a dark energy spike coming from their positions._

He didn't respond, as that was the point where they finally charged. It had only been four seconds since he first entered the conversation, so once they arrived he used the same processing power to examine their every movement. After a second passed he decided how to move forward and sprung into action.

He went after the asari that was coming around the aircar on the left side from where he was, as he noticed she appeared to be directing the other and was pointing her shotgun at the ground for the moment. She was only three meters away after the charge, so it took him less than a second to cross the distance. During that time he examined their every move looking for possible weaknesses to exploit. While the one he was heading towards noticed him first, it wasn't until she managed to fire off a panic shot that the other one noticed the incredibly fast movement that resulted in her leader's head getting nearly kicked off. Before she could react though, he ran straight for her, while at the last second twisting around to her right, still at full speed, and coming up behind her while grabbing onto her helmet's chin during the move. Now that her head was twisted toward the sky above them, she dropped faster than an overstuffed sandbag. After dispatching them he eyed the motion and heat sensors being shown in his vision. When the only movement he saw was in front of his objective on the floor below, and he found no other heat signatures on its level, he went to the stairs he had spent the last five minutes trying to reach.

After arriving at the bottom the first thing he saw was a massive brute of an alien he remembered as being a krogan. It hadn't noticed him yet so he had time to observe how it moved.

_Slowly pacing in an agitated state, not observing the entryways into the level. At the same time however, is wearing heavy armor that looks worn with age as well as battle scarring, while having a shotgun almost as large as one of my legs with numerous kill marks on the barrel. So, untrained but very much so experienced. Acts like he doesn't care because he's been around long enough to see it all. This one is gonna be fun._

_Remember, the average krogan can regenerate a bullet wound in under 65 seconds. If you push them into a blood rage they lose control and expose themselves to even the simplest of killing blows. You just have to make sure it's fatal, otherwise there's a good chance he'll get back up while your back is turned._

_Got it. Will it stay dead if I crack open his helmet and drop an incinerate grenade onto his face?_

She chuckled in a mischievous manner before responding. _Just to be on the safe side, you may want to push him off the building. We're 38 stories up after all. He might leave a rather large dent in the pavement though, wouldn't want to be the guy to clean that up._

He smirked at that before reviewing the basic 'krogan takedown protocol' Ocean had sent him back before he left the planet, what felt to him like years prior. It summed itself up rather simply really, 'remove the head, or cripple the limbs' was the basic idea. Having learned all he needed and not wanting to wait any longer, he made his way out of the stairwell. When he did, the krogan finally noticed him and pulled the massive shotgun from his back.

"So, the little varren pup finally got tired of playing with the rest of the pack. Willing to beg before we get started? If you do I promise to make it quick." The alien said in a rumbling voice.

He raised an eyebrow at the smug tone before responding. "Or what, are you going to take my reproductive organs? Maybe you'll actually have kids that way."

The gigantic lizard growled before giving a dark chuckle. "I'm going to enjoy this, pyjack." When he finished talking he bellowed a war-cry before aiming the shotgun at him. He dived behind a support pillar near the stair entrance and waited. He didn't have to wait long before the obnoxiously loud 'BOOM' of the weapon sending dozens of metal shards downrange echoed throughout the building. When it hit the pillar, it absolutely demolished the side exposed to it. He noted the rapidly decreasing cover as another two rounds exploded out from the barrel. He waited for the fourth one to come and was rewarded with it booming out. As soon as he heard it he rushed out at the krogan that up till now had been closing in on his position. Taking advantage of the confusion his move caused, he rolled underneath the shotguns smoking barrel and came up on his left side. He took a brief moment to form a rough spike around his fist before slamming it into the left eyepiece on its helmet, the reinforced material giving in with the sound of shattering glass. The krogan tried to retaliate by swinging his shotgun like a club and very nearly landed a hit on his own helmet. _Shit, he's fast!_

_Watch out for the legs!_

_I see them!_

After dodging a wild kick that looked like it could crack a cement wall, he used the momentary weakness to land a kick of his own into the creatures knee. After getting a satisfying 'CRACK' for his trouble he grabbed the grenade he had intended for this situation and formed a fist around it, before punching it into the exposed eye socket, causing the beast to roar in pain. As soon as it went in he tried to get away as fast as he could, only for the arm he had used to be grabbed by the krogan's empty left hand. Rather than do the smart thing and use the shotgun on his now very exposed head, the krogan simply lifted his entire body up before throwing him into one of the nearby parked cars, denting it with the impact. _Moments like that, I'm actually glad for this thing._

_The timer is about to finish._

_Oh right, should probably take cover._

Following his own advice, he pulled himself out and jumped over the hood. The krogan was in the process of lifting his shotgun up to fire at him, only for his head to disappear in a bright orange glow.

_So much for finding out what he was going to do if I didn't beg. Pretty light show at least, in a gruesome sort of way. Anyway, let's get this over with._

He came out from behind the car and walked past the still twitching corpse, up to a large crate that just barely reached his chest. He accessed the locking mechanism and uploaded the program he had gotten for breaking into effectively any door in existence. When the locks deactivated with a 'click' he opened it up to see just an empty box.

_Really? Not even just a better than average rock this time? I can't believe you had me go through all that trouble and you couldn't even put something in there._

_Well the next time you start a training program, I'll be sure to find something appropriate._

_I'm going to find dozens of alien novels aren't I?_

_If you want to move onto the next test, I already have another three different scenarios lined up._

Knowing that her ignoring what he said completely meant he was right, he sighed before responding. _No, I'm fine for now. How much longer do I have left before Setherus' sleep rotation ends?_

_One moment. He should be waking up in seven minutes. Do you wish to go over changes to various combat protocols until then?_

_Sounds good, still haven't found a reliable means of countering a blood-raging krogan._

_You could've brought one of the asari shotguns with you during the test you know._

_I could've yes, but the purpose of all this is to get used to having to find what weapon works best in what situation. One question though, the krogan this time around seemed to have some semblance of a personality. How'd you set one up for it already?_

_Oh that? I simply went through a few thousand extranet vids about what a krogan acts like to anyone they don't respect._

_This better not be your way of saying something._

_I have no idea what you mean by that. _The completely deadpan tone of her voice only made him sigh. For the next several minutes he sat outside the sleeper pod where his escort/guard/maybe-friend was about to wake up. Over the previous two days they had talked quite a bit. Apparently he was considered a rising star among the Hierarchy, as after breaking several records in training he had also passed the Blackwatch aptitude trials, even going so far as to beat the current record for a combat engineer. He hadn't yet told him why he decided on the career of a navy man rather than special forces, but they had managed to talk about multiple other things regarding his life. He had a family back on Palaven, including an older brother and younger sister. His brother was in the marines as a career soldier onboard a cruiser in council space, while his sister was still in boot camp. She would be finishing her training before the year ended and would be given her choice of careers afterwards. Apparently the two of them were rather close, due to the older brother being nearly a full decade older then them.

As the minutes ticked on he finally decided the best way to handle a krogan was with either a large caliber sniper round through its head or several well placed shotgun rounds to the legs and chest. Of course, another option was a grenade or five thrown at it until the corpse stopped twitching, but that was a reliable answer for just about every opponent he had faced so far.

_How much time now?_

_25 seconds, anything else you wanted talk about?_

_Now that you mention it, there were a few things I wanted to ask about. How are __the repairs for the weapons and shields coming along?_

_I have good news about the shields, they are and were fully functional, didn't even have to repair them. As for the weapons, repairs were finished yesterday. Both the main cannon as well as the limb-mounted secondaries were tested on asteroids drifting in the systems kuiper belt._

_Judging by your self-satisfied tone I take it the results were noteworthy?_

_Well, if by noteworthy you mean several multi-kilometer asteroids mysteriously disappeared because of the tests, then yes, they were._

His eyebrows shot up in surprise, and he needed to think about how to use them if it came down to an actual fight. After deciding to find some way of testing the shield strength of this era's ships, he moved onto the next subject he was concerned about. _Ok then, at least we know they work. __How are the makeshift engines holding up?_

_From the scans gotten during the trip here, they'll work for now. Compared to the actual engines though, they're only around half as fast and the amount of fuel they consume is almost comedic. Once the repairs are finished, they can either be left on as backups, or they can be reinstalled into the cruiser._

_Where did you leave it after removing the engines?_

_Orchestra decided the best option would be to simply let it sit in the space between this system and the one we woke up in, Dis I believe they call it? Well anyway, because of the cruiser being mostly intact, as well as having everything needed to conduct the tests, like rations and holding cells, they left the combat forms and repair drones first sent to clear it to keep watch over the experiments. What's going to happen to them anyway?_

_That depends on the results of the tests. You made sure to adjust the programming to only alter their personalities towards being loyal and obedient to us, right? Don't want them to simply keep deteriorating until their brains shut down._

_I did, went over it with Orchestra as well. Nearly all of them have already shown the early stages of nanite influence, otherwise known as indoctrination according to the files recovered so far, so it's only a matter of waiting to see what happens now._

_Good, the sooner we know the better. If and when we find signs of reaper influence, we'll need to know how to counteract it. Oh, I almost forgot, when it comes time to test how they respond to orders using the nanites, start with simple suggestions. Cross your arms, look up and down, start pacing in the cell, that sort of thing. After that's finished I want you, and I mean you, to use one of the infiltration forms that were made after they 'crashed' to personally interact with them, try and get them to believe they can trust you more than anyone else alive. We'll figure out what to do from there when that stage is reached, I'll leave the choice of which body to use up to you._

_I'll inform Orchestra of the testing parameters. As for moving the infiltrator, there are several FTL capable troop transports that have been patched up in the ship's hanger that we can use._

_Alright, looks like there shouldn't be any problems then. Tell Orchestra to stay just outside the system for now, wouldn't hurt to have the firepower nearby in case of emergencies._

_Will do boss._

_Don't call me boss._

_Will do Conductor._

_God above, that's even worse. Just call me Hystuss alright?_

_Already want to be on a first name basis? My my, you sure aren't a patient one._

He completely ignored her and continued on as if all she said was yes. _How much time is left now?_

_So it's going to be like that is it? Fine then, suit yourself. 22 seconds left, was there anything else you wanted to know?_

_No, that was everything. I'll let you know if any problems come up, so until then focus on completing the tests._

_Will do, Sir._

_Ocean._

_Fiiinnneee. Will do, Hystuss._

_Better._

He cut the connection when the time left became 20 seconds and focused on reality once more.

* * *

As the automated alarm woke him from his sleep he opened his eyes, only to see the being he had been assigned to watch over standing in front of his pod, and he couldn't help but let out a tired sigh because of it. _Can't even sleep without him watching me. I'm starting to wonder if he's doing this on purpose, or if he really just doesn't know how weird it is to stand around waiting for someone to wake up. Probably that second one, must not be used to being around people that actually need sleep._

The past two-and-a-half days had been strange for Setherus. After the incident in the parts storage room, he had only seen Premalon do a single thing of any note: the previous day, he had been unusually silent and seemed to not even notice most of what happened around him. When he asked the man about his seeming lack of attention, the answer he got was that Premalon was 'adjusting various settings for his armor'. Not seeing a reason to pry any further, he shrugged and went back to looking up recent news. The only thing mentioned that caught his attention was a batarian heavy cruiser that went missing after deviating from its assigned patrol. Apparently, the Hegemony was blaming criminal elements in the vessels command structure, as the ship had a history of being involved with illegal dealings and unsanctioned slave running. When he tried looking for more, all he found out was its name and the name of the previous captain. This only made him more suspicious, but he brushed it off as the Hegemony trying to cover it up, and it being just another ship that went into the traverse only to come back out as a pirate vessel.

Aside from that however, not a single solitary unusual event had taken place. It even seemed like Premalon was acting more normal than before! They had managed to strike up several conversations, and he couldn't help but pay full attention to everything the strange alien said. While he didn't learn much about him personally, the conversations tended to be focused on his peoples culture so he didn't mind. Apparently, his kind originated on an almost completely ocean covered world, with only small amounts of islands spread out across the surface. They used to live underwater and navigated using the head-tentacles they had, he even demonstrated how they could be moved at will, and they developed to the point of building gleaming white cities on the islands before reaching for the stars. He hadn't gotten very specific after that, but Setherus was honestly surprised at being told all he had been. While he couldn't quite consider him to be a friend, he could admit to the two of them getting along at the very least.

Even with them being on good terms with each other though, he still couldn't just let this go on. "You do know how most people don't actually like having someone that's not their partner watch them as they sleep right?"

Premalon furrowed his brows in thought in a gesture he recognized from watching too many asari news broadcasters. Eventually they shot up and he spoke in an apologetic tone. "Good point, sorry about missing that. Still getting used to being around regular people."

"Not a problem, but just to keep something like this from happening again, you may want to read some extranet books about understanding various cultures in council space." When he said that Premalon winced for some reason before nodding in agreement.

Once he was fully awake, he went through the daily routine of putting on his navy fatigues before heading to the small mess hall connected to the hanger bay. When he entered, half-a-dozen heads turned to look at him, or more accurately, the one walking in behind him. Even two days later the crew still wasn't used to seeing the unusual face of the alien. He couldn't decide between chiding them for staring at a foreign dignitary, or letting it happen, as even he still occasionally couldn't believe it. Eventually he just sent a stern glance their direction and moved over to grab some food that had been cooked for lunch that day. Throughout the entire time Premalon just looked on curiously, before silently deciding something. What Setherus didn't see coming was for him to grab a small plate of meat himself.

"Uh, you sure about that? Turian food tends not to work with most species. Aside from that, how can you even eat anything?"

He gave a smirk before he replied. "The answer to both of those is quite simple actually," he tapped his chest with a finger "I have an iron stomach after all." Setherus just stared at him for several seconds waiting for further information, before closing his eyes and giving a weary sigh.

"I see your jokes haven't improved yet."

All Premalon did in response was shrug before giving a more serious reply. "As I've already told you, I don't actually need food to survive. I do, however, have the option of eating food. My taste buds still work, while the material from the food is processed internally and gets used to fix my skin whenever it gets damaged." After saying that he took a small bite out of the cooked meat. Apparently he approved, as he brought it back for another bite after swallowing the first one.

"So that's why it seems so unnaturally flawless. You know you're just making me want one even more now, right?"

"Trust me, from what I've seen it's not a pleasant process. You have to be awake for the procedure and most tend to get their memories of it wiped afterwards." He said in a dark tone that sent a slight shiver down his spine. Before he could respond though, the combat alarm blared throughout the ship. Ten seconds later the alarm cut off and the voice of Viesranus broadcasted instead. "All crew, three unidentified frigates have just appeared in system. They refuse to respond to hails and are approaching in combat formation. Equip for possible EVA and report to combat stations. Repeat. All crew…" He didn't wait for her to say it again before yelling at the surrounding men staring in shock.

"WELL YOU HEARD HER! GET SUITED UP, YOU GAWKING CIVILIANS!" They rapidly moved after that, heading through the doorway to get to the equipment lockers in the hanger. As he needed to do the same he took three large bites out of the meat in front of him, before putting what was left into the food cleanser to be mashed up and scrubbed clean so that it could still be used.

He was about to head to the armory himself, when he remembered his current assignment. He turned around to get the VIP moving, only to see his helmet slowly form over his head out of what appeared to be dust coming from his neck. "Ok, now I REALLY want one." Premalon just shook his head before gesturing to the door. Nodding in the affirmative, they both went over to the armory. Setherus paused briefly as he saw the quartermaster helping some of the crew get their EVA armor equipped, giving time for Premalon to walk up instead.

"Lieutenant Tiburso, have you heard what's happening?" _Wait a second, when did he learn his name? I didn't even learn his name and I was put under his command!_

Rather than the angry glare he was expecting the quartermaster simply looked at Premalon with a neutral smile, like one would a neighbor or co-worker. "Premalon, I see you brought your escort to get his armor on. No, I know about as much as you do. After getting this bunch of trainees in their armor I was going to head up to the bridge to find out."

"Anything I can help out with while he's getting his own suit on?"

"I suppose I could use some help checking over their seals. Rather tricky finding those when you rush it."

"Alright, that's simple enough. Show me the one's you need help with."

To his complete surprise the quartermaster did, going over to a group of three men all making the last checks needed before they went to their posts. When they started scanning over each suit he noticed his charge had managed to find an omni-tool somewhere. Seeing as he couldn't keep watching, he began putting on his own suit in the meantime. As he had yet to skip practice, it took him less than a minute before he was fully suited up. Upon completion, he didn't immediately notice Premalon starting to scan his own suit with his omni-tool.

"Ok, I have to ask. How did you manage to get one of those? And how the hell did you get acquainted with the Lieutenant?!"

"Oh that? Well, during your sleep shift yesterday I decided to properly introduce myself to the crew here in the hanger bay. As Lieutenant Tiburso just happened to be working on some of the crew's weaponry at the time, I offered my assistance. After we finished tuning them up we started talking about various weapons and the advantages that different types and models provide. Eventually, we moved onto armor and he noticed I didn't have one of your omni-tools, so he gave me a blank spare he had in storage."

"Wait, you mean you actually had a normal conversation with him? About guns and armor?" Premalon gave a hesitant nod.

"I assumed he was simply putting up a show to ensure his subordinates took him seriously. Why, is it strange to talk about nothing but combat equipment?"

"Well I suppose not, but if I was anything other than a turian I'd probably say yes."

At this point Premalon tapped his back and gestured that he was done. "No broken seals or other damage detected, you're good to go."

"Alright, I think it's about time we went up to the bridge and found out what in the spirits is going on."

They made their way up the stairs, only for the ship to rattle violently before a feeling of acceleration made itself known. He almost fell because of it, only to feel his hand being grabbed before he could trip. "Come on, wouldn't want to dent that perfectly good suit of armor you have there now would we?"

"Damn perfect cyborg reflexes." He muttered low enough for Premalon not to hear, or so he thought anyway.

"Now, now, jealousy will get you nowhere. Eyes up, we're nearly at the top."

They finally got through the door, only to see the entire bridge in a frenzy of activity. When they arrived Captain Vencian was busy belting out orders. "-ake sure the distress signal is up and running! Pilot, get us into the asteroid field! We'll try to outmaneuver them once we get there!"

"Sir, what happened? Are we being attacked?" He asked as he approached the man.

"Ensign Kalnen? Good, you're here. I need you on sensors, we were ambushed by three pirate frigates that were waiting behind one of the moons of the planet we were passing by. They targeted our engines before we could react, so right now we're trying to make it into cover on the backups. Get to your post! Premalon, I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to head towards the escape pods. We all signed up for this, you're just along for the ride."

"Sir, what about command? Don't we still have contact?"

"They knocked out long-range comms in that last volley, until we get them looked at we ca-" "Captain, they just sent another burst at us! I'll do what I can, but our shields still haven't recovered and I can't completely avoid the spread they're firing with just the secondary engines!" interrupted the pilot.

"Shit. Ensign, belay that order. Take the VIP and Ensign Viesranus to one of the pods and prepare for evac. She was wounded after the comms were hit and can't perform the necessary repairs because of it. Once we get into the asteroid field you are to eject and shut off all systems except for life support and the emergency beacon. Make sure it's on a 2 hour timer before activating. Am I clear?" He couldn't help but stare as he understood what he really meant. "Am I clear Ensign!?"

"Yes, sir. It's been an honor." He said while saluting.

"The honor was mine." he activated the onboard comms from where he stood "All non-essential crew begin evacuation procedures. I repeat, begin evacuation of all non-essential personal. Even if the ship dies the Predator's spirit will live on! Make me proud." After he finished the announcement every person not doing something important at the moment stared at him in shock before recovering and giving him a salute as well. After doing so many of them began to move down to the hanger level where the escape pods were in this particular ship class. Premalon just stood there watching the whole event completely silent. "You have your whole life ahead of you Kalnen, leave the heroic sacrificing to us." Said the captain in a somber tone.

"I'll tell command about your actions once this is all over, sir. You won't be forgotten."

After saying their final goodbyes the turian way, Setherus moved over to where the comms officer was laying on the floor, propped up against the wall, cradling her right leg. "Can you move it?"

"No, ankle is broken, while my knee got almost completely shattered after I was thrown into the wall during that last maneuver."

"Alright, let's see about moving you then. Premalon, a little help?" His response was a sharp nod before he came over to her left side. Setherus kneeled down and put her arm across his shoulder while Premalon did the same.

"Ok, on three. One. Two. THREE!" They all stood up at that, Viesranus groaning in pain as they did. They made their way to the stairs and started heading down. Eventually they arrived at the hatch leading into the nearest open escape pod and once inside strapped her into one of the seats, careful to avoid moving her leg. He was about to close the hatch when the quartermaster came up to it. "Not yet Ensign, you still have two more passengers!"

"Sir, I was told to eje-" "I know, the captain told me already! He also told me we only have 8 pods, so I should fill them as quickly as possible. Now, no more arguments! Sergeant Terrilous, Corporal Perrilen! This one's still available!" The two men in question made their way to the entrance into the pod. "I'm sure you both remember Ensign Kalnen and the VIP here?" the sergeant of the pair gave a wary nod while looking at the alien in question. "Good! You'll be in there with them. Do what you can to get comfortable, no telling how long it'll take for us to be found out here."

"Sir, what about you?" Asked the corporal.

"I'm essential personal I'm afraid." the corporal tilted his head down when he heard that "Stow that crap! At the end of the day we're all men and women of the Hierarchy, all death means is we go join the spirits in kicking the ass of whatever killed us." Despite the situation Setherus couldn't help but smile when the man finished talking. Both of the marines saluted the quartermaster and he joined in. They got a salute back before the lieutenant closed the pod. Once they were all settled in, it wasn't long before the lights switched from bright yellow to a blue similar to that of turian blood, the color their equivalent of emergency lighting. Soon after, the pod jerked and the sensation of zero-gravity settled in his gizzard. It didn't last long, however, as the lights began flashing, while the automated guidance VI started speaking.

"WARNING! Collision immanent! Suggest altering course! WARNING!..." It repeated the words before the sergeant undid the straps holding him down and went over to the manual control stick that popped out from the front of the pod. He pulled it up and Setherus could feel the shift in momentum as they went. It wasn't enough however, as 12 seconds later the entire pod crashed into something, throwing the sergeant around like he was nothing more than a ball in a particularly violent sport, while rattling everyone around like some sick amusement park ride. The last thing he saw was the sergeant's neck bending at a wrong angle after hitting the ceiling of the pod, before the shaking became too much and his vision filled with darkness.

* * *

**Well, what do you all think? Good? Bad? I'm a terrible human being for ending it on a cliffhanger? What about my first real attempt at writing a fight scene, did I get just the right amount of brute force combined with tactical thinking and precision? Without reviews I have no idea so please, even if it's just a sentence saying "like it, keep it up" it at least lets me know I'm going in the right direction. **

**Well anyway, back to story related issues. I'll be limiting future chapters to 3 pov's at most, as the last one started to get more than a bit confusing just reading, never mind writing. Expect Ambush Part 2 sometime over the next week. If it gets over 7k words I'll make a part 3 that will cover the next chapter I have planned as well.**

**With all that said, hope you enjoyed and I'll see you next time!**


	6. Chapter 5, Part 2

*****The Broken Reaper*****

**Chapter 5: Awakening: The Ambush, Part 2**

* * *

**AN: Ah, feels good to be back again. Alright, basic update on the whole reason I took this little break. I made the alternate versions for Ocean in chapter 3 and 4, but they didn't get enough support for me to consider replacing the segments. I did put in an extended conversation after the combat training ended last chapter as my way of saying 'thanks for your patience', so be sure to check it out. It's only a few hundred extra words, and if you don't read it you're going to be fairly confused by what's being talked about for the first segment here, so if you haven't already, I suggest going back and reading it before starting this chapter. Now then, time for reviews.**

**Prometheus-747: Well, looks like all my little break did was prove I need to get a beta reader sometime soon to keep me from making simple mistakes like that in the future. Hope this satisfies. Fun little side note; the last section here went from being just another soon-to-be-dead batarian pirate (I'm starting to detect a pattern in my writing) to a plot point that might eventually develop into…let's just say something with possibilities. I'll stop here before I spoil it, but I can't wait to hear what you think about it.**

**SalinorTheDrake: It gave you the notification because when I removed the temporary note that was counted as a chapter, the story 'updated'. While I did add in the new part of the last chapter, it was because of removing the '6****th**** chapter' that you and anyone else that is following received the notification. Hope that helps.**

**lisbjerg123: Keep in mind that I'm learning as I go, this is my first attempt at even writing fiction, so I have to experiment to find the right way to do things at times. Glad you're enjoying it though, always nice to find out that it's good enough to interest more people.**

**Small technical note for this chapter: heavy frigates are simply larger versions of normal frigates with additional armor plating and shields. They tend to be popular with PMC corporations as well as pirates, as they're far cheaper than a cruiser, while being nearly as tough. While Citadel militaries do use them, they tend to favor normal frigates instead due to their increased engine speed and the rate that they can be produced at.**

**Now then, I've been waiting to do this for over a week. We'll be picking up just before where we left off last time, so let's see what happens shall we?**

* * *

Ocean was walking the infiltrator she chose for the tests to the transport ship, before starting it up and preparing to head to the engine-less cruiser. _I have to say, the skin color is a bit strange with how much it resembles water, but at least it looks close enough to my original body. Biotics will take some getting used to, but they'll be incredibly handy once I learn how to properly use them. Pity the files relating to biotic powers and how to increase them were completely destroyed, I'll have to ask Orchestra to start research on a new one to fill in the blanks._

She just finished moving the ship out of the hanger when she received a communications request from the only other singular mind left from her entire race. _Ocean, we have a problem._

_Why, what happened?_

_All I know right now is that this ship was ambushed by 3 frigates, I'm currently in the mess hall onboard and will be heading to the hanger soon enough._

_Do you want to unplug from your body?_

_No, I'd rather not leave it here for the tech inside it to be stolen, plus there's no telling when I'll have another opportunity to speak to a major galactic power like this. Besides, I was just beginning to like the big birds._

_Well we can't have them just dying off then, can we? Alright, what actions do you want Orchestra to take? Cyber warfare would be a good choice if that cruiser was any indication, or If that doesn't work crippling them and boarding is a possibility. Of course, we could always go with the tried and true method of 'kill them all, let god sort them out'._

_No way to know which one is the best option at the moment, until I learn more tell Orchestra to move within a minutes jump of the ship. Also, be sure to let them know to be ready for combat. If it does come down to that, at least we'll know how good the shields on the average citadel frigate are._

_Will do. Should I head your way with the transport as well?_

_No, continue heading to the cruiser. With Orchestra as backup they shouldn't be a problem if I play my cards right._

_You used to play card games?_

_Hey, before all this I could get just as bored as anyone else, cards used to make those moments at least enjoyable to an extent. Back on topic, I'll get in touch once I have more information on the frigates. I'm heading into the hanger now, so give Orchestra the orders._

_Will do. And Hystuss? Try to keep the damage to the ships hardware to a minimum, their systems might let us get to the bottom of this._

_Where's the fun in that? Oh fine, I'll make an effort to keep it in one piece._

He cut the connection when he finished talking, letting her inform Orchestra about the problem. As the transport was about to head into FTL, she wondered what the coming event would look like in person. _Guess I'll just have to make do with watching the recordings of it once they're taken care of. Why do I never get the fun jobs?_

As the ship finally completed the trip calculations, she sat back and went to skim over the massive information dump that was the extranet, like she normally did in-between doing actually important things. _Still can't believe they just leave all this out in the open, with just the vids on Wetube alone I could build a dozen different planet ending WMD's. Then again, if they want children to learn the process for making nuclear weaponry and show the weaknesses in the Citadel's disease containment procedures, that's their problem. It wouldn't even be that bad if half of them didn't involve things that are supposedly banned now. Anyway, about time I looked at what's shared about the Citadel itself. How these people managed to get off their homeworlds I'll never know…_

* * *

_**One hour later, damaged escape pod.**_

After what felt like waking from a deep sleep, Setherus started coming back to reality. _Ohhh…that's a headache in the making. They should really design these things with inertial dampeners built in. Wait, dampeners…..the Sergeant!_

He looked over the interior of the pod trying to find the man in question. Viesranus was already awake, but from the way she was clutching her leg the impact had probably not done her any favors. Corporal Perrilen was still unconscious, but what drew his attention was the completely still, floating form near the front of the pod. When he saw it he fumbled with the strap release for his seat, undoing it and pushing off towards what remained of the Sergeant. It didn't take him long to arrive, and when he did he noticed the faceplate cracked open, showing the glassy, nearly closed eyes behind it. _Didn't even know what happened. May the spirits welcome you into their number, and may you serve those that come after you with pride._

After finishing the prayer he had been taught before he left for training, he went over to the only other person currently awake. As he did, he noticed the lack of a 5th person, body or otherwise, in the pod with them. He checked his comms and when he found they still worked, used them. "Do you know what happened to Premalon?" He asked her.

The response she gave sounded like it hurt simply to speak, but she answered him anyway. "You mean the alien? No, when I woke up he was already gone. I tried to check the access panel for the door to see if it was opened but, well…." She gestured to her leg when she finished, and he gave a nod of understanding before he spoke.

"Do you need anything for it?"

"No, at this point the only thing that will properly fix it is several months of getting it patched up in a hospital. So much for getting promoted after the patrol ended."

"They'll just slap a medal on it and say you were wounded in action, why you might even become a celebrity!"

"Spirits, I don't even want to think about it! All the recruitment campaign's they'd have me involved with would drive me insane."

He chuckled before continuing. "I don't think we've been properly introduced. Ensign Setherus Kalnen, just graduated from the advanced courses on Menae as a combat engineer and was trained in electronic warfare at the academy."

"You went there for training? No wonder the captain had high hopes for you. Ensign Antana Viesranus, I've been serving on the Predator for the past year now. Trained as standard infantry and specialized in communications."

"Nice to properly meet you. Now let's see about-" he was interrupted when the interior door on the basic airlock opened, showing the missing alien on the other side.

"Was I interrupting something?" He said with a mischievous tone. Setherus wasn't in the mood for jokes, however.

"Why'd you go outside? You could've at least woken me up!"

"I made sure all of you would be fine before I left, Sergeant Terrilous was already gone when I got to him. I went outside…" he activated a screen from his omni-tool, showing a large amount of wreckage in the surrounding area that looked like chunks of ships "to get a good look at what happened. From what I can tell with the scanners on my helmet, after we were jettisoned the Predator launched it's torpedoes at one of the 3 frigates, crippling it and leaving it drifting in space. After that, I think it must've taken some damage from the other two, because around 75 minutes ago it's core detonated, completely destroying a second frigate that was trying to board it while I was watching. As for the third one" a series of images was shown of the last frigate docking with the crippled one and combing through the wreckage as if looking for something "we'll probably be having company soon enough."

"I don't like our chances of taking on the crew from two frigates, I'm assuming you have a plan?"

"You just named it." He said in response, causing an unsettling silence to come over them.

"You're kidding, right?" asked Viesranus after several seconds. Setherus waited for the punchline, hoping this was just another one of his bad jokes. When he didn't get one, he couldn't help but gawk at the alien.

"You're being serious, aren't you?" He asked with open disbelief. Premalon's response only served to form a pit in his stomach.

"Absolutely. It's been a few millennia, but I think it should be the perfect opportunity to test my bodies combat abilities."

"We're talking about a ship filled with people who fight and kill for a living! Three people, one of them with a shattered leg, can't take on a crew of dozens!"

"Four people actually." he said gesturing to the now waking form of the Corporal "Besides, it's not like we have to kill EVERYONE on the ship. They'd probably surrender before that happened."

"I just had to be put in with the crazy one, didn't I?" Muttered the only woman present.

"Relax! Just back me up and we'll all get out of this in one piece, I guarantee it!" While he still had his doubts, the words seemed to calm both him and Viesranus down enough for him to start properly thinking about it. He opened his mouth to reply, only for a new voice to join the conversation.

"Is it too late for me to just pretend I'm still knocked out?" Asked the Corporal.

"Afraid so, we're all in this together now." Answered Premalon.

"I should've listened to mom and went with Logistics instead of the Marines." Perrilen said in a low voice.

"Oh come on! Where's your fighting spirit? I thought turians loved this sort of thing!"

"You're thinking of the krogan. We prefer winning fights rather than enjoying them." Responded Setherus.

"Hate to interrupt your attempt at group suicide" said Viesranus, drawing the attention of everyone present "but I'm getting readings from the pods sensors of that frigate heading straight for us. Whatever you decide, you may want to hurry it up!"

Premalon looked straight at him then, making him give a deep sigh before acquiescing. "Fine, we'll do it your way. Not like we have much of a choice at the moment."

"Glad we could agree. Now then, you might want to get your gear ready for when they pick us up. I have a feeling they'll want to see what's inside the pod before they decide what to do with it." he paused before speaking in a gleeful tone "This is going to be fun!"

Setherus wanted to say something, but decided that if the 50,000 year-old machine-person lunatic wanted to go out fighting, he wasn't going to get in his way. _I just had to get the ancient alien with a penchant for doing the insane. _He felt a small ache in his head when he finished the thought.

_Oh well, not like I was going to live forever anyway. I suppose this is our only option though, I just hope some of the crew managed to get away without any trouble. _Whatever caused the ache stopped after that.

_Guess I was rattled more than I thought, might need to get looked at if I survive this._

He pushed the thought aside and went to the small equipment storage on the pod to retrieve his weapons. As he was trained in how to clear out a ships corridors like every turian that signed up for the Navy, he grabbed the Armax Arsenal Avalanche he received during his Blackwatch trials. He still couldn't believe he had been allowed to keep it after he decided on signing up with the Navy instead, but when he tried to hand it in he was surprised at his trainer's response. He could still remember the words even now.

'_Kalnen, I've seen hundreds of men and women just like you come here to be trained. Almost all of them don't even last the first week. You on the other hand, you not only passed the trials that have killed lesser men, you broke records doing it. So keep it, even if you would rather be on a ship than fight in battles that will never be put in the history books, I have a feeling you'll need it more than the next hopeful that walks through those doors thinking they're better than the rest of the military just because they get to dress up in black and orange armor.'_

After he finished the memory, he grabbed the standard issue Phaeston every turian was trained to use. When he looked around he saw Perrilen went with the standard ship clearing loadout as well, with the exception being his using a Haliat Tornado as his shotgun, whereas Premalon had two Tornado's strapped to his back and a Haliat Stiletto on each leg. "Don't tell me you can duel-wield shotguns!"

"What? Oh right, that. I grabbed the second one so that I can switch guns when one of them overheats, I did say I had a talk with the quartermaster about your kind's weaponry after all. As for the pistols…..well I did grab one for each hand, yes. Flawless coordination means I can keep up a constant stream of fire that I wouldn't be able to get with an assault rifle, plus the versatility of having two of them helps."

"Now you're just showing off."

His response was just a slight shrug before he went back to examining his loadout. Setherus decided to do the same, as he couldn't do anything else except wait for the ship to arrive. He didn't have to wait long, as Viesranus spoke up not even 2 minutes later. "They're almost on top of us now, looks like your hunch was right, Sir."

"Please, call me Premalon. Depending on how you look at it, I was never actually a soldier."

"With all due respect, the Hierarchy views you as a high level foreign diplomat, Sir. Until that's no longer the case, regulations require I treat you as such." As Setherus had already gone through this conversation on the first day after they left the planet, he interrupted them before it could continue.

"I'm afraid you're not going to convince him, regulations or not. If you continue calling him sir, he'll just keep trying to convince you to call him by his name."

She looked over at the person in question, who simply nodded in the affirmative. She tilted her head down in thought before she replied. "If it's alright with you, I'd rather keep to the regulations, Sir. No offense intended."

"None taken, I just prefer my name rather than some important title. How much time until they-" a loud *CLANG* came from outside the pod, before they all felt rather than noticed gravity taking effect. "Guess that answers that question. Alright, once I open the door, I'll be moving straight for them, so be sure to stay back and pick off anyone I miss. After we clear the hanger, look for any sort of access panel. I have a particularly useful hacking program I've been saving that I can use to get into their systems. If we're lucky, I might even be able to get access to the doors and lighting on the ship, maybe even their critical systems if they aren't careful. Ensign Viesranus, I think it would be best if you stayed here and kept watch over the Sergeant." She looked over at the corpse that now rested almost peacefully on the floor before giving a slow nod.

"I'll open the door in 10 seconds. On my mark: 10….9….8….7" As he continued the countdown, Setherus prepared to fire on anything that showed once the door opened. His shotgun extended and he felt the adrenaline beginning to pump through him in preparation for the fight to come. "3….2….1….MOVE OUT!"

The hatch opened, showing a very surprised looking trio of what looked like standard traverse pirates or mercenaries on the other side. Considering what they had just done, he decided on them being pirates. _Two salarians and a turian, turian is the biggest threat up close._

Following his training, he fired 2 rounds into the turian. His shields collapsed after the first round, while the second shredded the cheep armor on his upper torso and neck. The turian nearly flew back because of it, which left the two salarians. He was confused as when he focused on them again they were both on the ground and there were three holes in each of their head's that were leaking the light green blood of their species. He looked at the Corporal, only to see his gun hadn't even been fired. He figured out what happened when a purple blur went past him, only to yank a batarian out from behind the crate where he had been in cover, before kicking him into the same crate with enough force to dent the low quality armor that most traverse scum tended to use. Before Setherus could even move his gun towards another target, Premalon leveled one of his pistols at the pirates head, firing only a single shot before moving on.

As there were still close to a dozen targets left, he switched out the Avalanche for his Phaeston and took cover behind another crate in the hanger. He took a few shots from a pistol wielded by another salarian, but his shields held enough for him to send an accurate burst into it's unarmored head. The being's own shields held just long enough for it to get back into cover itself, so he sent a standard-issue low-yield frag grenade behind the salarians crate using his launchers ability to arc what it fires to good effect. He was rewarded with the salarian scrambling away, only for him to be pelted by another burst from the Phaeston, resulting in several green puffs to come out the other side of his body. He was about to switch targets again, when he saw a flash of what he recognized as biotic blue coming from one of the, now identified as asari, crew in front of him. He ducked back behind his cover, only to start feeling a pulling sensation coming from behind him that slowly increased the closer he got. _Spirits dammit, do I hate biotics! The one training course I had trouble with, so of course it comes back to bite me in the ass!_

"Premalon, need some help over here!" Now that he had the chance, he looked around the hanger, when he did though he had to double check to make sure he wasn't seeing things. Out of the original dozen pirates he first saw, only four of them were still standing. They were all asari from the looks of it, with one of them being the one that made the singularity he had been pulled into. They were all trying to fight off the same purple blur, and one of them was bleeding from the stump that used to be her left hand. He watched them all using their biotics to dodge, duck, and generally avoid getting hit while moving as fast as they could to the open doors at the opposite side of the hanger. The one with the stump got there first after using a biotic charge that put her just a few meters away from it. She sent out what looked like a warp with her right hand at their opponent, only for him to simply move to the left of it at the last second before continuing to engage them, although with the way he was constantly moving around it looked less like a fight to the death, and more like a beautiful dance with now 3 unwilling participants. The asari he didn't recognize both arrived at the door soon after, but the one that made the singularity found herself in a 1v1 with someone that looked like this was about as hard for him as stretching his legs.

She was about to charge herself judging by the obvious biotic blue around her, only for Premalon to go around to her side and do a leg sweep that made her fall face-first onto the floor. He followed it up by raising a fist into the air and punching straight down onto the back of her helmet, creating an explosion of metal and grey matter on the deck plating in front of the now headless corpse in the shape of a blooming flower. After she was taken care of, Setherus felt himself being lowered back to the ground as the singularity died out. Seeing as the last member of their group on this side of the door just died, the other three immediately shut the door behind them before Premalon could get there.

After making sure the Corporal was unharmed, and putting a burst into a body that still twitched, he walked over to the decidedly more threatening alien being, now that he was covered in a rainbow-like mixture of various species blood. "I…..don't even know what to say. Was it normal for your kind to fight like that?"

"My people looked at hand-to-hand combat as an art form, it was intended to be both lethal and beautiful at the same time, although I modified it to be more practical in it's application. Back to the present, find a panel I can access, once I get in I'll see what I can do about the ship's systems."

Setherus gave a brief nod before doing as he was asked. _Because an ancient, mysterious, immortal cyborg squid with a sense of humor wasn't good enough, he also needed to be a hyper-lethal combatant that thinks dancing and killing are the same thing. This patrol just keeps getting weirder and weirder._

Eventually he found an access panel, calling Premalon over to it.

"This'll work, just have to plug in…" he reached his hand out to touch it, and once he did the lights in the hanger flickered for a moment "aaannnndd I'm in, give me a few minutes, I'll make sure they can't open the hanger doors at least."

Setherus didn't respond, walking away and deciding to look at some of the bodies lying on the hanger deck around him. Apparently they had gotten some extra troops, as when he looked around there were far more than a dozen corpses. _Dead by shotgun blast to the face that removed most of his head, dead by head being twisted around to look at his spine, dead by shotgun blast to gut and lower chest, dead by shotgun blast to legs followed by kick that dented his helmet and most likely his skull, dead by repeated pistol shots to vital organs causing him to bleed out in less than a minute, is that a krogan that was killed by it's arm being ripped off and having a frag grenade put into the wound? We've had something that can do all this onboard our ship for two days? I'm going to need to visit a bar once I get back home….._

* * *

_**8 minutes before the ambush, independent heavy frigate Angered Maw.**_

Valora Sederis had been extremely busy for an asari her age. After moving off Thessia several years ago, the then just shy of two century old maiden joined a small band of mercenaries in the traverse. After working her way up through the ranks, she became the leader for the groups small biotic section. As it stood they only had a dozen members, with all but two of them being asari, said two were a pair of bonded turians that apparently managed to retire from their Blackwatch spec-ops forces. Her personal team consisted of herself and two other asari maidens by the name of Veyavasa Potalin and Umira Drurn. They were currently waiting to ambush a Hierarchy patrol frigate to, in the words of the message that was sent to them 'find the being on the ship that is a non-turian and bring it to the drop off point included if you accept'. Her and her squad members were making their way up to the bridge to await the vessel coming into range of the ambush point.

"I still think Besk shouldn't have accepted this job, the Hierarchy tends not to like it when their ships get attacked." Said Potalin.

"I think you mean Captain Vadrax, and why should we care about the Hierarchy? You saw the same message I did, whoever it was is offering enough money to buy an entire space station, or even exclusive settlement rights on a second-tier garden world! Even a turian can't resist when there are that many zeroes on a contract!" Responded Drurn.

"Just because you're looking to get at his quad doesn't mean you have to agree with him all the time, you need to stop thinking with your azure."

"Says the one sleeping with little miss commando here."

"Hey, leave me out of this! Besides, it's a little late to think about backing out now, Besk already received half the pay." Said Valora.

That seemed to perk Drurn up, almost as if the mention of the money is all it took to keep her going. Potalin, however, only seemed even more concerned. "Who'd even offer 700 million credits just to attack a lone frigate, and why hire a small group like us? They could've BUILT a larger fleet with that money! Something just doesn't smell right to me."

"Goddess, you're always going on about 'smell this' and 'smell that', are you sure your father wasn't a krogan too?"

"You know damned well my father was a turian, maybe he fought yours in the rebellions! Want to see if they passed that on to us?"

Knowing that having her own squadmates trying to kill each other right before a job would look bad for her, Valora decided to put an end to it before it could even start. "Enough already! Just because you're both maidens doesn't mean you have to act like it!"

That managed to shut them up, even if it was only briefly. "But you're a maiden too! How come you can get away with it but we can't?" Asked Drurn.

"Because, Umira, I only act like a maiden during the sleep shift." She said while patting Potalin's ass, causing the asari on the receiving end to let out a short, almost squawking sound. _I know she was raised on Palaven, but you'd think she would've taken after her own people more. She must've been close with her dad, I'll have to remember to ask her about it the next time we meld._

"For the love of the goddess, not in front of me! It's bad enough I have to be across the hall when you two go at it!"

"You could always join in, it's not like I lock my door." Valora said with a lustful smirk, even licking her lips while looking her up and down, causing the youngest of the trio to blush a dark shade of purple.

"That-you-I didn't-oh look, we're almost at the bridge!" She pointed out, obviously trying, and failing, to hide her embarrassment. _Say what you will about it being cruel, but watching the girl squirm is always good entertainment._

"Indeed we are. Try not to stare at Besk's biceps too much, he has a big enough ego as it is." If it was even possible, she was certain Drurn blushed an even darker shade of purple. She nodded in response, apparently not trusting her voice to hide how she felt. As they walked into the bridge, Valora spotted the Captain almost immediately, krogan tend to stand out after all. He was only a little older than herself, being just 250 years olds, and killed the former captain of the old krogan ship they were on over a hundred years ago. From what she knew, he traded the location of the base the ship had been launched from in return for a total pardon for everyone in his crew at the time, as well as being allowed to keep the ship. He built up his forces until he acquired two other frigates, which was when she had signed on.

"Ah, Sederis. I saw on the cameras you're still having trouble keeping your team under control. My offer to have T'Rerro discipline them still stands." He growled out with a massive grin, although considering the size of his head it may have just been a normal one. From what she knew after having several talks with Drurn, when a krogan smiles while putting a growl in their voice when they speak it generally means they're amused. Of course, it may also mean they want to rip your liver out for eating and turn your intestines into varren snacks. Krogan were strange that way.

"That old fish? She'd try seducing them after just a couple hours."

Besk responded by letting out a bark of laughter. "True, she probably would, but at least they would be kept in line." They were talking about the oldest member of the biotic section, a 600 year old matron that got bored with being a commando after the rebellions ended and decided to go freelancer. She had been with Besk for the past three decades, acting as his guard and occasional bed partner. It was apparently just a physical relationship, as the two ignored each other most of the time, hence why Drurn was constantly trying to get his attention.

"We're right here you know!" Said the aforementioned asari.

"I know, that's what makes it so fun." Replied Valora in an amused tone, causing Drurn to respond by letting out a sharp breath through her nose.

"Pureblood bitch."

"You're just mad that I riled you up so easily earlier."

Before she could respond, Besk cut in. "As entertaining as it would be to watch you go on, we have a job to do. Repeat that last report Agralo." He told the batarian in charge of sensors and communications, Agralo Dhosrabar.

"We just picked up the ship in detection range, they're requesting we identify. Your orders?"

Besk thought about it for a few seconds before answering. "Ignore their hails, we'll be shooting at them soon enough anyway. Have all ships target the engines, if they're crippled they won't be able to run. After that, try and locate their comms relay, I don't want a turian fleet coming into this system until we're back on omega toasting to our newfound riches."

"Will do Captain." As the batarian began sending the orders out, Valora approached Besk and spoke in a near whisper so that no-one else could hear.

"I don't like this Besk; why weren't we at least given an image of this 'non-turian' in the message? Not to mention there's no way whoever sent the contract intends to let us survive after we drop them off. This reeks of a setup."

He replied in a quiet, for a krogan at least, voice. "I hear you, after I received the offer I tried digging up who owned the return address. All I got was the name of some random salarian that died six years ago on the Citadel, no close family or anything."

"So, what do you think? STG or Spectre's?"

"I don't know, and that scares me."

"You? Scared? Well isn't that just great."

He gave a small chuckle before his voice became serious again. "It's not the groups that scare me really, it's the fact that after finding this out I got in touch with a few old contacts in the republics. The moment I mentioned the means of communication they told me not to go near it, didn't even say why, just that it would be a bad idea to accept."

"So why did you then?"

He gave a massive grin, and this time she was sure it was massive even for a krogan, when he replied. "Because I'm itching for a fight, and I have a feeling this could keep me busy for the next several centuries."

"Always the fighting with you krogan; doesn't it ever get boring?"

"Yes actually, when we run out of things to kill." He said, still with the grin on his face.

She shook her head at that and went back to her squad.

"So, what'd you talk to him about? You got all quiet and secretive for a minute there." Asked Drurn.

"If it makes you feel better, I wasn't making a pass at him." when she said that, Drurn gave her a pouting look while Potalin snickered in a turian-like manner, coming surprisingly close to the real thing "I did ask him about the client though. To sum it up: whatever happens, expect some trouble to come when this is all over." After saying that, all three of them had grim looks on their faces.

"I have a bad feeling about this." Muttered Potalin.

"No arguments here. Come on, we need to get geared up. We won't be the first to board it, but we will be the second. Make sure to check your gear, don't want to lose one of you just because of a crack in your armor." They moved out of the bridge after that, headed straight for the equipment lockers connected to the hanger three decks below them without another word. This was going to become a problem, and each one of them knew it, so in the manner of most asari Valora looked to the future to try and discern what might happen.

_**Present time.**_

_'I have a bad feeling about this.' Biggest fucking understatement of the millennia._

For the past hour the job had gone from 'this might cause us problems in the future' straight to 'WHO GIVES A SHIT ABOUT THE FUTURE, I HAVE ENOUGH PROBLEMS NOW!'

Suffice to say, Valora had not had a very good day so far. At first she was relieved that they had managed to take out both the frigate's engines and comms. Then a few minutes after that the vessels escape pods launched, soon followed by their disruptor torpedoes, nearly destroying the frigate the bonded turians were on, killing half the crew. In response Besk sent a salvo into the damned turian ship, blasting a massive hole in their hanger deck, which in turn left them crippled. He ordered his other frigate to board the vessel, only for them both to explode when the turian's reactor went critical, wiping out anything within a 2 kilometer radius. After that clusterfuck, they moved over to the damaged ship to begin evacuating the crew. Fortunately for them, while their hanger and large portions of the bridge were now a gaping hole, their engineering section and crew quarters were mostly undamaged, meaning they were able to seal off the rest of the ship.

Even after all this, Besk STILL wanted to find the unknown being that they originally came here to get, so the past half hour was them combing through the wreckage, looking for any pods they could find intact. They did eventually find one, although judging by the damage she could see on it, there was a good chance anyone inside was already dead. _Boss or not, if we don't find at least something of value out of all this, I'm going to be the next Captain to continue the tradition of killing my predecessor!_

The pod was grabbed by an extendable salvage crane installed in the hanger, slowly pulling it inside. She decided how to move forward, and gave an order to a turian guard by the hanger access door. "You! Take the Retzik brothers and open that up, if anything's still alive use a stun baton to subdue whatever it is! If what we're looking for is in there, it's worth 350 million credits, so try not to overdo it!"

The turian responded by giving a sharp nod, moving off to order the two salarians to back him up. She didn't notice when a 4th asari came up to her from behind. "I'll never understand turians that become mercs. They leave their military so that they don't have to follow any orders, only to sign up as guards and PMC soldiers to be given orders again."

"T'Rerro! What are you doing here?"

"Besk sent me down to make sure nothing goes wrong. Not that he doesn't trust you of course, he simply doesn't think the rest of these idiots down here could handle it if it does."

"Guess that makes sense, half of them seem like they're too busy imagining what they'd do with the money once we finish this job."

"Exactly." she paused to watch the pod brought down to the hanger deck "Alright, time to crack this-" she was cut off by two loud *BOOMS* indicative of a shotgun being fired, with several pistol rounds being shot off in-between. "Weeellll shit. Looks like we're up kid, follow my lead!"

After saying that, T'Rerro pulled a shotgun off her back and crossed 40 meters of the hanger in a biotic charge, running into cover near the pod after the charge, Valora and her squad right behind her. When they arrived it was to a scene straight out of the sci-fi movies that salarians tended to make. A single purple-armored form was blitzing it's way through the hanger crew, killing anyone that moved in front of it, only pausing long enough to switch out it's shotgun for a new one after it overheated. With the thing right in front of them, she didn't even notice when a grenade went off a few meters away from them. T'Rerro did, however. "You three, take care of…of….whatever the hell that thing is! I'll handle whoever else they have in here!"

She snapped out of her stupor and gave a nod to her technical superior, before switching to her teams personal channel. "WELL YOU HEARD HER, TIME TO DO YOUR JOBS!" that managed to bring their attention back on her "Drurn, you have it's left side, Potalin, you focus on it's right! I'll stay here and provide support with some throws and warps! If it works, we can box it in long enough for reinforcements to get here!"

"Yes Ma'am!" They replied almost simultaneously. As they began to make their way around the crate, she stood out of cover so that she could send a throw at it, only to see it was already pointing a shotgun right at her. She didn't react in time to avoid the first shot, which managed to stagger her, while the second one destroyed her barriers entirely. She was certain that the third one was going to end it, only for her to get tackled from her left just as the next round boomed out. She didn't avoid it entirely though, as it absolutely destroyed her left hand while she was in the process of being tackled, making her let out a yell of pain.

"GODDESS! FUCKING! DAMMIT!"

"Did you get hit Valora? I tried getting to you as fast as I could." Said a voice she vaguely remembered as being Potalin's, it was difficult to hear her over the massive amount of pain coming from her wrist. _SONOFAFATBATARIANBASTARD THAT HURTS!_

"It managed to hit my hand with that last shot, I can't feel anything past the wrist!" She forced out through clenched teeth. Potalin gave a curt nod before looking at her hand. When she did, Valora could tell she winced even through the helmet.

"Well? What happened?"

"Your hand…it's gone."

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN GONE!?" She said in a mix of anger and fear, before looking at her arm in the hopes she was just exaggerating. It turned out no, she was not. She kept staring at the stump where her hand used to be, until she heard grunting over her helmets comms.

_"WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU TWO?! WE CAN'T FIGHT IT OFF BY OURSELVES!"_ Yelled out T'Rerro.

She forced herself to look away from the stump, using Potalin as a brace while standing up. Once she was properly standing, she responded. "I just got my hand shot off by that fucker! Won't be able to provide effective support for you. What happened to the rest of the crew?"

Rather than the matron, it was Drurn that replied._ "THEY'RE DEAD, THE THING WENT THROUGH THEM FASTER THAN A THRESHER MAW!"_ she panted when she finished, only to grunt before saying more _"T'RERRO, IT'S REACHING FOR THE SHOTGUN AGAIN!"_ She yelled out, sounding like she was already out of breath even though they had only been in the fight for at most a minute.

_"HE ALREADY TOOK DOWN OUR REINFORCEMENTS, RIPPED AN ARM OFF OF STRUR LIKE IT WAS MADE OUT OF PLASTIC AND SHOVED A GRENADE INTO HIM! THAT'S IT, FALL BACK! WE'LL SPACE THE FUCKER, CREDITS BE DAMNED!"_ Said T'Rerro.

Not being one to wait around after getting an order to retreat, Valora moved away from Potalin and began running as fast as she could back to the door they first came through. Once she was sure she wouldn't end up hitting the wall, she charged into the entrance and sent out a warp at the being chasing them. Rather than hitting it, her warp missed at the last second and she watched as the thing almost casually fought and chased three biotics all at the same time, and if that wasn't enough, it looked like it was winning. Eventually Potalin and Drurn made it back, with only T'Rerro left on the other side. She still had hope that they would all make it through, only for said hope to be crushed into grains of sand as T'Rerro was tripped by the being, before having her head simply erased from existence the second she landed on the ground. After watching it happen, she slammed her remaining fist on the controls, closing them as quickly as the hydraulics would allow. The door closed with a hiss, letting the three of them have a moment for a short breather.

"What….in….Athame's….name….was that?!" Drurn said, in-between gasps for air.

"I….have….no….fucking….clue." Replied Potalin.

"I think I have an idea actually." She said, being the only one that was in any condition to speak, even with a still bleeding arm. When she did, they both looked at her, still panting, and waited for an explanation. _I'll head to medical once they catch their breath, not going to bleed out just because I want to maintain my image._

"That, if my hunch is right, was the 'non-turian' we were supposed to find on that frigate."

Drurn spoke up when she said that, in an increasingly frantic tone ."You….mean….that….THING….is worth….700 million….to someone!?"

"Looks like it. You good to go? I need to get this patched up, just because I can talk without yelling doesn't mean it isn't hurting like hell."

This time it was Potalin that spoke. "Yeah…I'm…fine now." she took a deep breath before she continued "Let's get over to the medbay, we could all do with being checked over."

"Yeah…yeah." Drurn took a deep breath herself then "I'm able to move. That thing is the Captain's problem now."

As they began to head to the elevator the lights in the hallway flickered, before a voice she didn't recognize spoke in flawless Thessian standard, the primary trade language in Citadel space, several seconds later._ "Greetings to the crew of the Angered Maw. My name is Premalon, I am the one you were hired to find, and I would like to make you an offer that you can't refuse."_

* * *

**I know, I know, another cliffhanger. Don't worry though, Part 3 should be out soon, so you won't have to wait too long. This was my first chapter without a POV from Premalon himself, what do you think? He'll be coming back next chapter, so expect a whole lot of…..shall we say 'negotiating' to take place.**

**It was a blast to get back into this after that little break, which is why what I have to say next makes me feel somewhat conflicted. Starting on April 6th, as long as national flights are still being allowed, I'll be going on a 2 week vacation to family in Florida. I won't be able to put any chapters out while I'm there, so I hope to get at least two more done before I leave.**

**Also, yes, th****at was a Godfather reference without it even existing yet in this universe. I won't say what it means for our semi-demi/kinda-sorta reaper, but let's just say things are going to get interesting soon. As in the ancient chinese curse of "may you live in interesting times" interesting.**

**With all that said, thanks again for being patient with me. Hope you enjoyed and I'll see you all next time!**


	7. Chapter 6, Part 3

*****The Broken Reaper*****

**Chapter 6: Awakening: The Ambush, Part 3**

* * *

**AN: First off, I just want to say this: WOW. This has already gotten over 2900 views and 1100 visitors, and I've only been writing it for less than a month! Thanks to everyone who's taken an interest in the story, I can't describe how it feels to have something that I just started out of curiosity grow into an actually serious work of (fan)fiction! I hope that as we start wading into the more complicated and difficult to write chapters, I can still manage to make them engaging to read. We've only just started on this long journey, and I have no idea where it's going to end, but I hope you'll join me for the ride. Now then, time for reviews.**

**Prometheus-777: I see you changed your name. Well anyway, in regards to your review on chapter 3 (FF thinks it's 4, but I'm not counting the prologue). Umm yeah, so….*tries to hide embarrassment by clearing throat* thanks for the glowing review. I wish I could answer those questions, but some of the events you mentioned I have yet to even plan for, never mind how it would reveal large portions of the storyline if I answered them. Not that I want you to stop of course, just saying it's going to be a while before most of what you asked about does get an answer. I'm thrilled you enjoyed it as much as you did, and I hope this chapter answers at least some of the questions you have. As for your theory about Ocean's intentions, whether she manipulated him or not is completely up to you, because I'm not saying. What? I need at least a few mysteries in this for the reader to wonder about until I finally bend under the pressure :P. In answer to your question about Sovereign; he hasn't woken up yet. Of course, our MC's don't even know about him, so expect pretty much anything to happen when we do finally get there. Hope this satisfies you, because if I keep going I'll reveal what I HAVE planned for. As for your chapter 4 review, parts of it came rather close to a copy-paste of my plans. How you do that? Won't say which parts of course (cue evil laugh), but I think it will become obvious before too long.**

**Tom712: Um, thanks, I guess?**

**Nightshift the Dragon Shifter: Glad you're enjoying it, always happy to have someone new come across my little project. I hate to say it, because hoo-boy do I have plans for when that finally happens, but there's a very real chance that particular meeting won't happen for a couple real world years yet. As my fic isn't really following the basic formula that most mass effect fanfics of this nature do (as in the MC joining Shepard when she/he is already, or on their way to becoming a spectre) I, and everyone reading, get to follow what would normally be something just regulated to flashbacks or references to past events: half of the Citadel's history. Not only that, but as we get further down the road, that history will be fundamentally changed. Well, that's the plan anyway. I have no idea how I'll actually pull it off, but I hope you'll stick around to find out.**

**Small problem I just found. I was reading through chapter 3 again, trying to iron out any mistakes I came across, when I got to the name of a certain krogan that was discussed during the council meeting. Nimar Drarn. If you read the last chapter, and I'm assuming you all did, you'll notice how it closely resembles the name of one of the asari OC's I just added that has a krogan last name. In my head-canon, the children of asari couples almost always receive the family name of their birth mother, the reverse is generally true for children of mixed-race parents, with exceptions obviously occurring with both. As for Drarn's name being so similar, it was a complete accident on my part, plus at the time I wrote chapter 3 I forgot krogan put the last name first (Urdnot Wrex, Urdnot Wreav, Gatatog Uvenk etc). His name has since been changed to Rordak Dakar, and I'll be keeping a list of every name I use to make sure I don't repeat this mistake in the future.**

**This is the finale of Ambush, and it will only end in even more problems for everyone involved. Expect our (heroes?) to have far more action than any of them would prefer in the coming chapters. Well, any of the normal one's that is, a certain ancient cyborg probably wouldn't even notice if he was allowed to do this on his own.**

**Now that that's out of the way, we'll be picking up straight from where we left off last time, so let's wrap this 3-parter up so we can head off into the unknown once more!**

* * *

**22 minutes later, medical bay.**

Valora was quickly recovering from the painkillers that were used while her wrist was cauterized and bandaged. The brief operation was done by the ships doctor, a salarian in his late 20's by the name of Mursorm Wuzor, but everyone on the crew simply referred to him using the incredibly original title of 'Doc'.

"Thanks for fixing me up Doc. Anything else I should know before I leave?"

"If you have issues with wound re-opening, I expect to see you in here to have it examined more thoroughly. Results of possible infection would be unpleasant, disposing of severed limb afterward even more so. Why other species favor frontal engagements as their primary method of combat still confuses me. You can go now, the Captain is waiting outside the door to see you along with your team." He shot off so fast she could only blink when he finished, not understanding a word after 'thoroughly'. When she still didn't move, he sighed and spoke in a slower manner. "Captain wants to see you, your team is outside, come back if you have trouble with the wound."

"Oh, right. You know, you remind me of several other salarian doctors I've known over the years, do you all go to the same university or something?"

"Possible attempt at banter? Unnecessary for current issues. Suggest ending this conversation so that both of us can continue in our duties." He said, once more in speeds that could register as traffic violations on some worlds.

"I only heard possible, unnecessary, and conversation."

He closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath through his nostrils, before muttering in his rapid-fire style of speech. "This is why I prefer working on other salarians, can never have a patient capable of keeping up otherwise." he let the breath out through his mouth, before responding so slowly she thought he was making fun of her "My past unimportant, talk to captain, let me get back to work."

She glared at him, but he ignored it and went over to the medical files for some of the wounded from the crippled frigate. Seeing as she wasn't getting a reaction anymore, she stood up and walked out through the medbay's entrance. Sure enough, leaning against the wall and pacing in circles were Potalin and Drurn respectively, with Besk himself sitting at one of the half-dozen small dining tables scattered around the crew deck, eating a plateful of meat. Said deck had everything from the living quarters for the officers, to the mess hall and medical facilities. It wasn't long after the door opened that Drurn noticed her.

"So, how's the arm? Were there any complications? Am I going to have to compete with strong and silent over here for your job?" She said without stopping to take a breath.

"Whoa now, slow down and breathe already, Umira! Goddess, you're almost as bad as Doc."

Drurn followed the advice, visibly calming herself before she spoke. "What did he say about it? I don't want to start taking orders from the statue."

"Stop worrying, will you? She's obviously fine, Doc wouldn't have let her out if she wasn't." said Potalin while she walked up to Valora's side, whispering in her ear as she did "You are fine, right?"

"I'm surprised at you, Veya! I happen to always be fine!" She whispered back with a slight smirk, to which Potalin responded by nipping her lower neck, coming close to breaking skin.

"Ass."

"Hey, you know you love it." Potalin showed her teeth this time, hovering over her neck threateningly. "Alright, alright, no need to get violent! I'm good, Doc patched me up and said to come back if I have any issues."

"Good, I was beginning to think I'd miss out on our 'endurance training session' tonight." Potalin replied in a husky, lustful tone.

"Oh goddess, now? Really?" Drurn said, following it up by making a theatrical gagging noise.

"Now, now, Umira, someday you'll learn that having a means of getting rid of your tension is very important for keeping your morale high and your stress low." Said Valora in a straight voice, imitating the tones she remembered hearing from many of the matriarchs she had managed to talk to in her life.

"Wise advice indeed, especially after a day such as this." interrupted Besk, apparently finished with his meal. He walked over to them, nodding at each of them as he did "Sederis, Potalin, Drurn. I want to talk with you in private about a job I have for you Sederis, if you'll excuse us." He looked at the other two, waiting for a response.

"Whatever you say Captain, I'll be getting some food in me while you two talk." Said Drurn, sounding actually obedient and respectful for once. _Honestly, could she be any more obvious? Why Besk hasn't just dragged her to his bed by now I don't know, but the poor girl is acting like a trained varren! A trained, obnoxious, sex-deprived varren._

"Good. Potalin?" Asked Besk.

She looked at Valora again before she responded. "Fine, just try to take it easy on her. I'd rather not find out she wound up in the medbay again because of it."

"Don't worry, if everything goes according to plan, you'll have her for as long as you want afterwards." That satisfied her, as she went over to join Drurn in picking out a meal. The two of them being who they are, however, they instead began arguing about how best to cook various types of steaks. "I must say, she certainly seemed happy that you're alive and well." He said with a slight grin.

"Oh, that? Well, she apparently got that from her mom, as the adrenaline after a fight ends will leave her feeling….excited. Kind of surprised Drurn didn't say anything similar to you while you were out here waiting."

He turned at the waist to glance at Drurn before he responded. "Why would she? She's never said anything like that before." When he finished, she couldn't help but stare at him in disbelief.

"You mean you haven't noticed?"

"Noticed what exactly?" He said while tilting his head to look at her with a single eye.

She tried her very best, but after several seconds she couldn't contain the building laughter anymore. She let out one long guffaw, causing everyone in the surrounding area to look at her, before taking control again and catching her breath. "Oh...Oh goddess...I haven't had a good laugh like that in weeks." Besk narrowed his eye and started growling in an obvious threat "Sorry, sorry. It's just, even after all this time, you still haven't noticed…" she had to smother another chuckle "that little Umira over there wants *snicker* wants to ride your quad until she blacks out from exhaustion!" She let out a short lived chortle, managing to stop it from going on long enough to become insulting.

When she finished laughing, Besk went ramrod straight, looking back-and-forth from her and Drurn. Said asari was pointedly not looking back, even though the blush she had could've been seen all the way back on the Citadel. "Drurn, that right?" He yelled across to her. She responded with just a slight, almost imperceptible nod. When she did, Besk stared at her for several seconds before giving his answer to the unasked question. "Then you should've just said so earlier. Meet me in my cabin in 3 hours, I should be available by then."

Drurn turned to look at him with a sparkle in her eyes, before giving a tiny squeal of glee like she was still just a kid in school while running off in the direction of her cabin, leaving the food she had picked out behind.

"Kids today. When I was her age, I was busy settling old clan feud's with generous usage of orbital strikes and ground assaults, while raiding volus shipping lanes and dodging turian patrols." He said with a shake of his head.

"Cut her some slack, the girl's barely 100. Just because krogan start learning how to kill before they hit their teens, doesn't mean we asari grow up that fast."

He harrumphed in reply, before actually speaking. "Now that we're no longer distracted, I can give you the details of that job I mentioned." his demeanor changed now that he was talking about business, from relaxed and friendly, to strict and unwavering "After the being….Premalon as he calls himself, gave me his offer, we agreed on a means to ensure neither of us get any ideas."

"Wait, so what was the offer exactly? After that initial broadcast he didn't say anything else."

He scratched his head plate before answering, a common sign of a krogan being uncomfortable. "It was actually rather simple really." After that he went into a summary of what he talked with the being about, saying that to demonstrate exactly why they had no real choice, it temporarily turned off gravity on the bridge, and followed by firing the main cannon at an asteroid without the input of any of the crew. Suffice to say, it held their full attention after that. After the demonstration, this Premalon proposed a deal. Besk would give him the coordinates to the dropoff point for the job, an abandoned recon outpost built during the rebellions in one of the nearby systems by the name of Cacus, and in return they would be allowed to leave. Besk looked like he wanted to say more about it, but in the end decided to tell her where she came into the picture. "That brings us to what's happening now. As part of the deal, I'll give him one of our shuttles to get there, and drop off the turians in that escape pod on the wreck of the Grokort's Tooth. There was also an arrangement we arrived at that made sure neither of us broke our word." He scratched his plate again, and she started to get nervous about the job he wanted her for.

"Why do I have the feeling I'm not going to like what you're about to say?"

"Heh. Forgot how perceptive you asari tend to be. It was agreed that aside from him and the pilot, which I'm loaning to him until he's done with the shuttle, we could each send one extra person. He picked a turian he had with him." He paused just long enough for her to think about it.

"And you picked me." she said in a low voice, with the beginnings of a headache forming "I'm not sure if someone forgot to tell you, but I just lost my FUCKING HAND!" She yelled out the last words, turning heads again. Potalin had already left, so all Besk had to do was glare at those around them to make them lose interest, before returning his gaze to her.

"I never said I didn't have issues with the deal, but I don't really have a choice. When we got to that part, he refused to accept anyone else. If I had to guess, he knows exactly what job you have onboard, and if I was in his position, the fact you just became an amputee only makes you a better option for this. So whether you like it or not, you get to go with him on his little trip." He said with a tone that was both intimidating and brooked no argument, while pulling himself up to his full height, making her rethink what she was about to say next. After all, it's rather hard to refuse an order given to you by a two-and-a-half meter tall, half-ton sentient predator trained from childhood how to kill, especially when they're right in front of you.

She swallowed some saliva building up in her mouth, when she finally gave him an answer. "Fine, but if I actually manage to get back after this, I want a bigger cut." She said in a subdued voice.

He scoffed through his nostrils before he replied. "Considering the amount of payouts I'll have to make was cut in half thanks to this job, I think a few bonuses can be allowed. The shuttle's going to be warmed up and ready to go when you arrive, I had your gear moved to your quarters so that you can prepare without any interruptions. I expect you down in the hanger in 20 minutes or less, so try not to say anything stupid when you talk to him. I don't want to have the ship's reactor go critical simply because you got him angry enough to reconsider the arrangement."

"I'll be fine, just because I'm young by asari standards, doesn't mean I don't know how to keep my mouth shut."

"Good. I'll let Doc know to allow you access to his field supplies." he was about to leave, when he turned around and said something in a concerned tone, surprising her "One last thing Sederis: stay alive out there." after a couple seconds passed, he blinked only once, before continuing in his normal gruff manner "It would take me a while to find someone to properly replace you."

After he was done talking, he walked off towards the elevator, letting her stop to think. She stood there in silence for nearly a minute, before heading towards her quarters to start getting prepared. _What was that all that about? Don't tell me that's how he shows that he cares! *sigh* Why did he have to accept that job? I'm so pissed about it that if I don't do something, I might commit suicide by krogan._

She came into her small personal quarters, only to stop just inside the door when she saw the completely nude form of Potalin stretched out on her bed. _Looks like she didn't want to wait. Goddess, do I love it when they're even more eager than you are. Should probably make this quick though, wouldn't want to show up wrapped in a blanket after all._

After 18 minutes of physical bliss, she found herself walking out of the elevator towards the hanger, dressed in her now clean, and patched, armor. She came through the door, and the first thing she saw was one of the old, beaten-up shuttles that Besk never seemed to replace being prepped for flight. It was an original krogan model, built during the final stages of the rebellions, and true to their makers it looked like a flying rectangular bunker, with nearly too many guns to count. She noticed the unknown being as well as Besk waiting next to it, and decided to simply get it over with now rather than try and avoid it. _So, play hostage and if I manage to make it back get paid more than most other asari do in a decade. What's the worst that could happen?_

* * *

If he was being honest, he was surprised at how easy it was to take control of the ship. All he had to do was break into their systems, and he was given complete access to everything onboard. _Guess they skimped on getting decent security systems, time to take a peek at what they've been up to._

He dug around in what passed for the ship's internal comms, with a recurring theme being how nearly every person onboard was constantly talking about a job of some sort. He decided to investigate, and eventually found fragments of two deleted messages buried in the ships extranet access records. _Let's see. Being. Non-turian. Drop off. Accept. So they were given an offer to find me? By who?_

He read what was left of the second message, hoping to get some answers. _Payment. Deliver. Being. Station. Well, that doesn't help much. Ocean._

_You called? _He received as soon as he said her name.

_I want you to go over some information I just got from the hardware of the frigate that picked me up._

_So you did manage to take it without trouble! Find any goodies for me?_

_I did manage to get something unusual in their internal comms, as well as partially deleted messages talking about some sort of offer._

_Alright, send me the info, I'll get Orchestra to look it over as well._

_Good, if you come across anything of note I want to be informed as soon as you do._

_Sure thing, you'll be the first to know. Well second. Although, if you include Orchestra as well-_

_Ocean, I know you enjoy talking as much as you do, but I have things I need to deal with, so if you could simply relay the order?_

_Hey, I haven't been able to have an actual conversation in over a billion years, you were lucky enough to not have to sit there for all tha-_

_Oceeaannn._

_Oh fine! I was about to tell them anyway._

He cut the signal when she finished, mentally shaking his head, before going back to the matter at hand. _Well, if they're mercenaries, then it should be rather easy to propose a trade anything with half a brain would accept._

After making his presence known to the mercs, he got in contact with their leader. While he was still talking to him, he decided to go through the ship's personnel records, starting with their list of biotic members. It didn't take him long to come across a name he recognized due to listening in on their comms. _So you're the one that got away. Let's see, 207 years old, has been leading the groups biotics for the past three years, is personally in charge of a team with two other members. Huh, so that's why that one tackled her so soon after I started firing, the two of them have been working together for years now. Signed up with the group when she was 199, was born on Thessia to an influential family of some sort. Not many details before she joined, which seems rather strange. You'd think most employers would want to know more about who's working for them. Then again, maybe these types of groups care less about what you did before joining, and more about what you do after. _He mentally shrugged and focused on the conversation he was having instead. After he gave the krogan captain his full offer, the merc spoke up.

"How do I know you won't just blow the ship to pieces once I drop off your little turian group on the wreck?"

"Because I'm giving you my word, that's why."

The krogan scoffed across the channel before responding. "Threats or no threats, I haven't been doing this for over a century because I was naïve. Unless you come up with an actual reason, you can just blow this ship straight back to Kalros for all I care."

Seeing as he sounded completely serious, Premalon had to think about how to convince the man to agree to the deal, seeing as threatening him didn't work outright. He eventually decided on something he believed would be acceptable. "Then how about a few slight changes to the deal. Both of us are allowed to send someone else along with, I already have someone in mind for both sides."

"Oh really? And who, might I ask, did you pick from my crew?"

"Valora Sederis." The other end of the conversation went completely silent for a moment, and when the krogan responded, Premalon was actually surprised by how angry it sounded.

"If you think I'll just throw one of my best fighters away like that, you must be insane, especially considering you already tried killing her once!"

"I'm not willing to accept anyone else, and I know she can at least keep up, which is more than I can say for what's left of your crew down here." there was silence on the other end once more, so he decided to try something that would either result in him gaining the services of this group in the future, or would result in it blowing up in his face "How about this then; in return for her being the one to come with, I'll give you a sample of some prothean-grade technology I have."

"Prothean-grade? You have something like that on you?" The man asked, with a bit too much eagerness in his voice. He couldn't help but smirk when he heard it, already knowing that he made the right choice. _Always trust a mercenary to look for a quick payoff, even in the middle of bargaining for their own life._

"It would seem whoever employed you forgot to mention a fairly important detail. I have access to a foundry capable of making technology just as advanced as the protheans, it's how my suit was made after all. I'd be willing to give you a sample now, and if you're satisfied with it, we could conduct more trades of the sort in the future." There was another period of silence after he gave the offer, but rather than interrupt, he let the krogan's greed work against him.

"If what you're offering is good, I believe we can work something out."

"Oh I can guarantee you, it's good. How do you think I took over your vessel so easily?"

There was a short pause before he answered. "Fine. I'll let her know about your little trip, but I'll only agree to this if you bring her back in one piece."

"That's fine by me. I don't intend to harm her as it stands, I just want to find out first-hand who was under the armor. Even after losing a hand, she just shot back up and ran off like it never even happened, as if she did it just to spite me. It's rather annoying to be honest." He was expecting some sort of insult, so when the krogan let out a short bark of laughter, he was fairly surprised.

"HAH! She does have that affect on people doesn't she? I think I'm starting to like you pyjack! Were there any other 'deals' you have for me?"

_Well what do you know, Ocean's training program wasn't that far off after all. _"I have what I wanted out of this, just be sure to follow through on your end."

"I'll keep to my word, you're not the only one that values their reputation."

He turned off the comms on his end, looking over the hanger to try and find the turian he decided would be coming with him. Said turian was back at the pod, and from the look of things was trying to put together a makeshift splint from the materials that were inside the crates scattered throughout the hanger, almost definitely making it for Viesranus. Seeing an opportunity for what it was, he looked around at some of the opened crates, trying to find pieces of piping or thin metal paneling. He started getting frustrated, as everything he found was either too heavy or too small, when he noticed one of the turians he had gone through earlier, it was missing the front half of it's head, but the armor from the chest down was in good condition. _Time to see if this will actually work, might need to refill my supplies first though._

He looked at the crates again, until finding what he was looking for, an unopened one labeled 'Salarian MRE, 1000 count'. _Guess that'll do for now._

He opened the crate, finding hundreds of small packages around the size of his hand. After picking one up, he opened it so he could examine the contents. _Is it supposed to be yellow? Weird choice in coloring._

Finding nothing wrong with it visually, he decided it would have to do for now, shoving the entire bar into his mouth after removing his helmets faceplate. He immediately regretted it, as he came close to spitting it back out. _Who in their right mind would consider that edible!? It tastes like a three day old fish left in the sun!_

After he swallowed what was left of it, he decided against trying another and went back to his original plan with the armor. _Let's see here…..from what Tiburso told me, the release for most turian armor should be right about…there!_

He pressed the release, causing the thigh piece to pop out from the leg. He continued the process until everything down to the armored boot was moved off to the side. _Time to put this omni-tool to good use, I've been wanting to try out that welding app anyway._

He began the process by fusing the armor plates together with his tool, before cutting it in half vertically, starting with the left side, then going to the right. He followed it up by making 8 simple hinges with the nanites, welding them onto the right side of the leg so that it could open. After that, he made a pair of primitive latches, welding them onto the left side of the thigh and ankle. Once he was finished, he stood it up so he could examine it properly, testing it by leaning on it and lightly tapping it on the deck. _Well, it's not exactly perfect, but what can you expect out of a rush job. _The words 'Field Repair Protocol added' appeared in his vision when he stood up to head for Setherus with the finished product. _Huh. That's useful. Wonder how many of those secondary protocol's I can get access to? Imagine if there's one for cooking and cleaning! Hehehehe, I think I just found what I'll be having Ocean do until her stage of the tests arrives. Let's see her talk her way out of this one! _He took a second longer to think about it. _Of course, she may become even worse if that's what I get her to do. *sigh* Why is it that even when I win, I lose?_ _Well anyway, time to get this dropped off._

He walked over to the pod, drawing Setherus' attention. "Ah, Premalon. Could you help me with….." he cut himself off when he looked down at the splint Premalon was carrying in the crook of his left arm, speaking in a low voice after he stared at it for a few seconds "Showoff."

"It's not my fault you never learned how to properly use a welder, if it upsets you that much I could teach you how if you want." He said with the most smug tone he could manage. The turian's only reply was mumbling something that vaguely sounded like 'damned flawless space-squid', making a satisfied smile appear on his face. They went inside the pod's still open airlock, where the recipient of the splint was still sitting in her chair, an assault rifle propped up next to her just in case.

"That was certainly quick! I take it you helped him out, Sir?"

A chuckle escaped him when she asked, before he spoke in an amused voice. "You could say that, yes. No telling what might've happened without his invaluable assistance, however." Setherus didn't say a word, but he didn't have to for Premalon to know exactly how the turian felt. He couldn't help ribbing the poor man, even though she was clearly confused about what he meant by it. Rather than continue, he focused on what he came here to do. "We'll have to remove the plating around your leg to get this on you. I'm not sure how well it will fit, but it's a normal size for a turian, so it should slip in just fine."

Both turians looked at him in silence for several seconds before understanding dawned on him. "That came out wrong, didn't it?"

Setherus apparently found an opportunity for a comeback, as when he spoke Premalon swore he could see the grin behind his helmet. "Oh no, that came out perfectly normal. If we ever have to do something like this for a female krogan, I'll be sure to say kind words about you after she rips you apart and feeds you to her pet thresher maw." he chuckled after he finished, while Viesranus let out a small snort herself "All joking aside, we do need to remove the armor around your leg to get it on. This might hurt a little."

She gripped the sides of the seat in response, but gave a sharp nod before doing what she could to spread her legs apart so they could get to the broken one without trouble. Setherus started detaching the plating, while Premalon moved around to her right to try and line it up properly. Her grip on the seat only increased as they worked on it, but considering there wasn't a sound coming out of her, she must have muted her helmets mic. Setherus eventually finished taking the plates off, giving him a chance to slide the splint under her leg, making last second adjustments before closing and latching it together. When it did shut, she hit her helmeted head on the wall behind her, while her other leg shot out wildly, but she managed to keep her right one still until the process was complete. It took her close to a minute, but when she spoke, it was in a relaxed voice. "Can't even feel any pressure on it anymore. Thank you." She directed at them both.

Setherus started asking her if she had any other problems, and not wanting to intrude, Premalon simply nodded and walked out. Another minute later, Setherus joined him outside. "So, not sure how it's done in this time period, but in my day, we would start by exchanging head-strands, and after that propose a beachside rendezvous as a way of showing appreciation to those of the opposite gender. What do turians do?"

"Are you asking if turians go on dates?" He asked with some confusion.

"Is that what they're called now? What a weird name."

Setherus only shook his head before responding. "I simply told her that if we all get through this, I'd visit her while she's recovering in the hospital."

"Ah, a long term rendezvous then." Setherus just sighed over the channel, apparently not wanting to argue the point "There was something else I wanted to talk about though."

"What was it?" Rather than respond, the hanger door opened up, showing a massive being coming through from the other side. As the Corporal was the closest one to it, he started speaking over the comms.

"Shit! They have another krogan?! I'm going to need some help with this one, Sirs!" He said in a panicked tone of voice.

As he knew who the krogan was before he even left the elevator, Premalon replied before Setherus had a chance. "Hold your fire! I happen to be acquainted with our latest guest." Setherus stared at him when he said it, while Perrilen could only say 'yessir' in response.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" The ensign nearly spat out after changing to a separate channel.

Seeing this ahead of time, he made sure to send the appropriate emotional signal to the nanites as he spoke. "Calm down, remember when I said we probably wouldn't have to actually fight the entire ship? Well I managed to convince their captain to agree to a proposal I gave him."

It seemed to work, at least partially, as when Setherus spoke again, he sounded far more relaxed than before. "How can you trust him to honor whatever deal you made? Pirate trash like them are just as likely to offer you a drink as they are to spike it and rob you blind!"

"Actually, they're mercenaries. I found out while I was digging through their systems they were given an offer to attack the Predator by a mysterious benefactor. While that wouldn't be a problem by itself, said benefactor somehow knew about my presence onboard your ship, and hired them to retrieve me because of it. I don't think I need to tell you how much of a problem this could lead to if left unchecked."

Setherus went quiet then, deep in thought about it, right up until the krogan came within 10 meters of them. "Fine, I'll hear him out. But if he tries anything, I won't be blamed for what happens next."

"If he does, I'll be glad to let you do it. Unless that happens, however, try not to antagonize him. If this goes the way I'm trying to get it, we shouldn't have any further problems right up until we get picked up by your Hierarchy."

Setherus didn't say anything else, and seeing as the mercenary captain was only a few meters away from them now, neither did Premalon. _I may have lost the Predator and the progress I made with it's crew, but at the rate this is going, I'll have the Maw soon enough. God above, it feels good to have some things go right for a change._

* * *

**Oh-ho-ho-ho do I have plans for the next several chapters. Sadly, I'll probably only be able to make one more before my vacation starts, so I'll be leaving you guys out on a limb during that time. I might be able to write one while I'm down there, but even if I do manage it, I won't post it until I'm back on the plane headed home.**

**Minor oopsie here. I originally intended to add in the next chapter as part of this one, as this was supposed to only contain a small section that I cut from the last chapter because of length issues. Before I knew it though, the whole splint scene added in another thousand words that I hadn't planned for, and I had extended that cut section to almost twice it's original size. So yeah, this is the finished result. I apologize for my lack of self control, I just lose myself to my own story when I start writing. Hope it comes out as a satisfying finale for Ambush.**

**As a sneak-peek at things to come, here's the name of the next arc: **_**The Nightfall Wars.**_

**We still have a few more chapters in Awakening left before we get there, and let me tell you, I'm going to be putting as much as I possibly can into them. The events that are going to come in the following chapters will be the setup for the next arc, and I have no intention of skimping out on chapter length once we get into it. After I get back, expect the remaining chapters in this arc to average at 7k words or more, and between you and me, I can't wait to start on them!**

**As always, I hope you enjoyed and I'll see you next time!**


	8. Chapter 8

*****The Broken Reaper*****

**Chapter 8: Awakening: Interlude: Rainclouds over the Horizon**

* * *

**AN: Well here we are, this is the last chapter I can put out for the next two weeks. No, you're not imagining things, that chapter number up there is intentional. I made it 8 instead of 7 to try and make it easier for everyone to know which chapter is what in the future, seeing as FF counts the prologue as chapter 1 but I don't. So essentially, there is no chapter 7. Doesn't make much sense I know, but that's just the way it is. Maybe if enough people complain to them about it they'll let authors change the chapter names in the index like every other website similar to this has already done, but until that happens, we'll just have to skip the lucky 7 for now. **

**Can't wait to get started on the events to come, as some pretty serious changes are about to take place, jumpstarting the divergence from canon because of it. I don't want to give away what's about to happen, so let's just cover reviews before heading straight into it.**

**Prometheus-777: Yikes. I mean I like long reviews, but that my friend could pass as a chapter by some author's standards. I'm afraid I won't be able to respond to most of what you said, as I'm trying to trim my review responses down to a more manageable level, but I'll at least give you an answer to some of what you asked. Loved the 'conversation' you had at the start, gave me a good laugh. As for how I got the various personalities and cultures the way they are? Months of reading mass effect and halo/mass effect crossover fics, as well as spending several hours worth of research on the various species and what they're like every time I introduce a new race, combined with me simply putting myself in the frame of mind that the character would have. Just because they're not humans doesn't mean they'd act fundamentally different from one, alien culture and race aside. We have enough examples in our own history of completely different peoples and societies interacting with each other in a normal manner for it to be believable. Nice to see you already spotted the way I have my reaper setup (I really need to come up with a name for the ship itself, because Leviathan would only anger everyone involved, and Dis isn't overly imposing). With Premalon as the captain, and Ocean as his executive officer, it only made sense for Orchestra to be the crew. Won't be able to cover the rest of what you asked about, but there was one last thing I wanted to mention. When you put up your review, it was 3 hours before I started work on this chapter (nice timing btw). As it got me thinking more about some of my character's histories from before the first time we see them, I wrote the last section of this just for you. Hope you enjoy.**

**[Author fun facts] The turian academy is essentially their version of college/university, except with a focus on military education and/or community jobs training (police officers, public officials, even down to waste disposal). A turian going to one will learn a variety of skills that will be useful both in and out of the military, such as learning how to lead men and make decisions that effect more than just themselves (politics, business owners), electronic warfare and how to fight it (software developers), vehicle field repair and spotting weaknesses in enemy designs (mechanics), and many more. There needs to be a reason why turians are so centered on their military, and this just made the most sense. If they want to go to one without paying for it themselves, they agree to serve as officers in their chosen branch for no less than three Citadel years. If a turian is selected for, and manages to pass a special education course (Blackwatch aptitude trials, vessel captaincy trials, or ground command training in large unit tactics to become battlefield tacticians) but decide to go with their original career path instead, they are allowed to change their pick at any given time until their first 3 year term of service ends. Well, that was fun, might do more of these to explain how the races actually function off-screen in the future.**

**Well anyway, with that taken care of, let's get started shall we?**

* * *

**One hour later, aboard independently owned Klixen-class shuttle, enroute to Cacus system.**

For the past hour now she had been sitting across from where the turian stood in the shuttle, wondering when he was going to decide between shooting her glares from inside his helmet, or simply shooting her. The thing that called itself Premalon was up in the cockpit with the shuttle pilot, some random salarian that nobody would miss should things go wrong, apparently trying to figure out how to operate the controls. 'Because some things need to be learned from experience' was all he said before he left her alone with tall, dark, and annoying. _I mean does he think cleaning that fancy shotgun of his in front of me is going to make him more intimidating? News flash asshole, I have to deal with worse from my boss on a near daily basis._

She wanted nothing more than to say it out loud, but seeing as she didn't want to take the risk of him treating it as enough reason to remove her head, she sat in quiet, waiting for it all to be over. Rather than enjoy the nap she planned to take, Premalon came out of the cockpit. The being looked over the two of them, the turian pausing his 'cleaning' as he noticed the third person now present. They were apparently having a private conversation, as Premalon crossed his arms and tilted his head to the right, while the turian did anything but look at him.

Eventually his arms uncrossed, and he walked over to the seat next to hers, before sitting down. "Sorry about that, he apparently doesn't think very highly of, as he put it 'pirates with a thick bank account'."

"You forgot to add on an extra-thick there, after this job is over I'll be set for the next century. Of course, that's assuming your little turian friend doesn't decide the interior of the shuttle needs a purple makeover." Premalon gave a short chuckle when she finished, apparently finding her statement about being messily killed funny. _Great, so the guy laughs about that kind of thing. No wonder he went through the crew so quickly, must've been having the time of his life. _As she finished the thought, a small migraine made itself known.

_Come on Valora, focus on the positive. If I do actually make it out of this, I can finally get that beachside house back home. Well, as long as some snobbish rich kid hasn't already bought it with their allowance money. Why couldn't Mom have found a wealthy old hag with only a few decades left to get bonded with? Noooo, she had to go with some skank she found while on leave during the rebellions. Great idea Mom, it only took Dad a couple decades to disappear. Sure, 'disappear'. Bitch probably ran off with a random CEO's daughter. _During the mental conversation she was having with herself, she didn't notice how the migraine simply vanished. She was brought out of her thoughts when she heard Premalon speaking up again.

"So, I never actually introduced myself did I?" she didn't respond, not trusting herself to avoid mentioning how he was too busy slaughtering the crew to do such a thing, so he continued on "My name is Hystuss Premalon, the grouchy turian is Setherus Kalnen." said turian glanced at the two of them when his apparent name was brought up "You could say I'm not from around here."

She let her curiosity get the better of her, looking at him and tilting her head in a questioning manner as she spoke. "What's that supposed to mean?" Rather than Premalon, the turian, Kalnen if she heard right, spoke up for the first time, reminding her of someone with far too many problems on their hands.

"Trust me, you don't want to know."

"Funny, I ask you a question and some random turian voice answers me. Is that a trick you can do with that custom suit of armor you're wearing, or am I just imagining things?" He let out a proper laugh that time, while she could feel said turian contemplating murder as he went back to his 'cleaning'. Premalon stopped laughing after a few seconds passed, speaking in an amused tone of voice.

"I have a feeling we'll get along just fine. As for your 'question'" he made air-quotes when he said it, looking almost exactly like how an asari would do so "you'll just have to wait and see. Wouldn't want to have you in shock for the next several hours, now would we?"

Seeing as she wasn't getting anywhere, she went with the next question on her mind, something that had been bothering her ever since she first saw him in the hanger. "So are you a batarian underneath all that? You can't be an asari, you don't have the right 'equipment' for it." She said while pointing at her chest. For several seconds he didn't respond, but from the way Kalnen was now pacing and moving his arms in her general direction, they were probably having another private conversation. At this point her patience was practically non-existent, so she threw caution out the window and interrupted them. "Look, if you're not going to tell me, just say so, because I'm starting to get dizzy watching your turian dance around like that, he reminds me too much of a bad date I had with one of his kind a few decades back."

They both turned to look at her after she said that, and while she couldn't hear it, she saw Premalon lean back in his chair while hitting it's armrest in what she was sure was full-bellied laughter. Whenever he got around to remembering she couldn't actually hear them, he switched back over to an open channel. "Oh yes, just fine indeed."

The turian had apparently done so as well, as she heard him muttering something about cyborg squids over her helmet speakers. _Huh. Learned a lot of turian insults from Veya, but that's without a doubt the strangest one I've heard so far. Wonder what it's supposed to be about? Weird._

They continued on in a mix of occasional conversation and silence for the next two hours, before the pilot chimed in over the comms, informing them that they were about to exit FTL. Premalon went back up to the cockpit after the announcement, once more leaving her alone with Kalnen. Rather than go back to what he was doing originally though, he started to actually examine his equipment, checking it over for damage and anything else that might cause him trouble. Seeing as she knew not to interrupt someone preparing for a fight, she decided to check over her own gear. _Until I get a new hand installed, I'll just have to make due with my biotics and my pistol, some grenades would be a good idea too. At least he blew the left one off, wouldn't even be able to shoot straight if it was the right. Just one more day and I can finally get paid. After all this is over, I wonder if Besk would let me have a vacation? I hear Illium's always a good choice this time of year, might even bring Veya along with me. Of course, I actually have to make it through all this insanity alive for that to happen. *sigh* Maybe Mom was right about becoming a merc, the only good thing about it is the paycheck._

She continued checking her gear in silence, preparing for whatever they were going to encounter on the abandoned station. She had no way to know what to expect, so she decided on what to bring based on the one fact that had stood true for thousands of years in every culture and race she knew of: there's no problem that can't be solved with a liberal application of bullets and high-explosives.

* * *

_**Meanwhile, onboard heavy cruiser Pillar's Disciple, unknown region in dark space.**_

_Ancestors dammit, how long are they going to leave me in here? Feels like a few days have already passed, or has it been just a day? Or maybe only a few hours? GAH! I never used to have this much trouble with keeping track of time before! Did those new purple armored guards put something in my food?! Haven't those bosh'tet batarians had enough fun with all the rattling and noises they've been making lately!?_

Nil'Medor nar Rannoch had gone on his pilgrimage after graduation from school, the test of adulthood the more religious quarians go through when they come of age, by signing up with a trading vessel that had docked on Rannoch to pick up various supplies and electronics; as quarians produced some of the best computing systems in the galaxy, rivaled only by the asari. He was joined by three other people he knew from school that also graduated that year, heading out on their own pilgrimage with him. He planned to simply travel to a few planets, maybe the Citadel if he could, before coming back with a small souvenir from each place he visited as proof. It was a practice that wasn't done very often anymore, mostly by the more traditional quarian families, as they were more susceptible to allergic reactions and diseases when traveling to new ships and planets than the other races. As his family had been going on pilgrimages since before quarian's had even mastered spaceflight, it was now up to him to continue the tradition.

So of course, it was during said pilgrimage that the vessel he signed onto took some damage to their engines, resulting in an unscheduled stop in batarian space, followed by the damned four-eyes finding them and arresting them on charges of 'trafficking goods without a license'. He hoped the keshin that attacked them would rot in a prison cell someday, but was brought out of his thoughts when his own cell door opened. As it did, he saw the figure of an astonishing asari in the same purple armor as the new guards standing in the doorway. Seeing as she wasn't wearing a helmet, he recognized who it was almost immediately.

"Captain Atrella? What happened? How did you break out? And where did you manage to get that batarian armor?"

She stopped walking inside when he said her name, blinking repeatedly before wincing and muttering what he thought were the words 'darkness dammit'. She eventually spoke up, sounding nothing like the asari he knew. "I'm afraid I have no idea who this 'Atrella' person is, you must've simply mistaken me for her. My name is…." she paused to think for a second "Cerhn Perdweigh. Would you mind telling me yours?"

While he was still suspicious about the person that could be his former-captain's clone, he felt a strong urge to answer the question. "Nil'Medor nar Rannoch. What happened to the original guards? Why were they replaced with the other ones? Are you their commander?"

"Slow down kid, we'll have plenty of time to talk over the next couple days. But first, let's get some actual food in you." As soon as she finished speaking, one of the fully armored guards came in through the same door she had, carrying what looked to be a large silver platter with something on it. As the guard came towards him, Nil saw what was on it up close and couldn't help but notice how good it smelled, the various quarian spices mixing with the gorach steak on the platter too tempting to ignore. The guard put the platter on the table in front of him, leaving what, if he had to guess, were gold and ivory eating utensils next to it, before turning around and walking out in near mechanical precision. He stared at it for several seconds, skeptical about why he would get such special treatment at the hands of his captors, even though the smell was making his mouth water.

"If you're not going to try it, I can always give it to someone else. I was the one that cooked it after all, found the supplies to make it in the private quarters of the last captain of this vessel. It's apparently supposed to be a quarian delicacy, although I'm sure you already knew that judging by the drool on the corner of your mouth." She said the last few words with an amused smile on her face, and he couldn't help but blush and wipe it away using his sleeve. _Of course the one time I actually need to, I can't control my ancestor's cursed love of a well cooked meal, and right in front of a kind, attractive asari too._

It took a few seconds, but he finally realized what he just thought and blushed even more. _Damned teenage hormones, I knew I shouldn't have spent all that time watching those vids about her kind's reproduction in action._

Hoping to recover some of his damaged pride, he picked up the utensils and started cutting a slice of the steak. He lifted it up once he did cut it, looking it over with an appraising eye. _Well, it looks like normal gorach at least, although she did overcook it a little. *sigh* If this is going to be my last proper meal, I should probably try to enjoy it._

Suiting actions to words, he put the slice of meat into his mouth. Rather than the hard to chew steak he thought it would be, it managed to almost melt in his mouth, reminding him of when he had a meal at the 7th highest rated restaurant back on Rannoch as part of a prize he won during a school raffle. He was so focused on enjoying it, he forgot where he was and let out a small groan of pleasure. The reaction by the asari managed to bring him back to the present.

"Heh, that good?"

"Keelah, yes! Where did you learn how to make quarian food like that?"

"Oh, you know, just some vids on the extranet mixed with some cookbooks I found, nothing special really." As he was too busy shoving another slice into his mouth, he didn't notice how she spoke in an almost embarrassed voice. When she saw what he was doing, she let out a chuckle that reminded him of wind chimes from back home, drawing his attention back to her. "I'll leave you to your meal for now. It's been a pleasure talking to you, Nil'Medor nar Rannoch. I'll be back around the same time tomorrow, and if you're lucky I might find something else on this ship that I can make for you."

She started getting up to leave, so he stammered out what he wanted to know before she showed up. "Wait! How long am I going to be left in here?"

She stopped moving and seemed to freeze in place, but for some reason took a few seconds to give him an answer. "I wish I could tell you kid, I really do." She said in an almost sad voice, causing him to wonder why. Before he could say anything else though, she stood up and walked out, leaving him wondering about her final words. _What could she have meant by that? Isn't she the one in charge of whatever group took over this ship? How long does she intend to just talk with me like this, I have family that's probably worried about me!_

He tried thinking about whether he would have to try and escape if he ever wanted to be free again, only for a headache to pop up before he could get a proper train of thought going. _Guess I can worry about that later, should probably finish eating this before it gets cold. To think that there are asari out there that can make my people's food so well! I should ask for the recipe so I can give it to Mother when I get back home, having this every night would be a dream come true!_

He continued eating it, no longer worrying about what his immediate future would bring him, and when he finished decided to use the small cot in the room so he could get some rest. His last thoughts before drifting off to sleep were of how the eyes of his mysterious captor seemed to glow a beautiful sapphire blue, drawing him in like the gems they so very closely resembled.

* * *

_**Angered Maw, in holding position outside Plutus system, 4 hours later.**_

The first thing he heard was an alarm going off, followed by the sound of rustling next to him on the bed. He cracked an eye open to see what it was, only to quickly close it as he saw the exposed blue form of his beloved looking back at him. "Oh no you don't, time to get up you big lizard. We're supposed to be hitting that freighter today and you know how impatient Drenox is."

"I think the Ganar spawn can wait another hour or two." He replied in a tired voice, or at least he tried making it sound tired.

She gave an amused sigh before speaking in a teasing manner. "If you don't get up now, then I'll have to tell Mother about how my krogan bondmate is ignoring me. I'm sure she'd be more than happy to find someone else to fill that role instead of you."

Knowing that if she was serious he'd have to deal with a woman that made Kalros herself look like pleasant company, he gave a low growl before getting up. "You won't be able to use her to get what you want forever, you know."

She had a massive smile on her face when she spoke. "You're right, I won't be able to use her forever, only for the next 300 years. Of course, if you got up when I asked you to, this wouldn't be a problem."

As he was walking to his equipment locker to get dressed, he looked at her with one of his eyes. "My Little Rose just had to be an asari."

"Hey, I'm not little!" As she was indeed small, standing at only one-and-a-half meters, he didn't respond to her, simply turning back to the locker. After a few seconds passed, a pillow hit the back of his head, and from the force of the impact she used her biotics on it.

"So that's how you want it? Suit yourself." He picked up the pillow, using his own soulgrip to 'throw' it back at her. She easily dodged it, showing off her commando training, giggling like the maiden she was.

"Is that the best you can do? My little sister is better at using biotics than that!" Knowing the goal of the game she was playing, he turned around, still undressed, and ran straight at her. She gave out a yelp of surprise when he did so, trying and failing to avoid him in the small room. He eventually caught her, scooping her up in his massive arms, causing her to start giggling again, while he let out a bellow of laughter the entire time.

The scene faded away to the bridge of the Maw, where he was biotically punching the arms of his ship's captain, Ganar Drenox, as they were held in front of his face in an attempt to protect himself while he was lying on the floor, both legs a broken mess. "I DID WHAT ANY OTHER KROGAN IN MY POSITION WOULD HAVE DONE, WELP! WE USED TO DO THIS ALL THE TIME DURING THE WAR'S HEIGHT, IT'S HOW WE NEARLY WON!" The man on the receiving end yelled out. He didn't care though, not after what the coward did.

"YOU LOST THE RIGHT TO CALL YOURSELF THAT AFTER KILLING YOUR OWN CREW JUST SO YOU COULD RUN! IT WAS FOOLS LIKE YOU THAT LEFT OUR HOMEWORLD A DEAD ROCK SO LONG AGO!" His punches finally started doing damage, as one of his opponents arms couldn't withstand it any longer and loudly cracked, before a sound similar to that of breaking stone came from it, soon followed by it falling limply to his side. It didn't take him long to do the same to the other one, very nearly ripping it apart with his biotics. After several seconds of punching his face, he stopped to pick up his combat knife off the floor, which to any other species would be a small sword, before holding it in both hands like one of the warlords from his people's iron age. "I ON THE OTHER HAND?! I! AM! KROGAN!" When he said the last word, he swung it down onto the now former-captain's head, going through his crest and skull like they weren't even there. As the bloodrage cleared up, he looked around, only to see the krogan crew members on the bridge repeatedly pounding their fists together in an ancient sign of respect from one warrior to another. One of them walked up to him as they did, tilting his head upwards in a way that exposed a large portion of his vulnerable neck, the action as close to subservience as a krogan would ever come.

"Your orders, Captain Vadrax?"

"Turn the ship around, I have an asari admiral I need to speak to regarding what just happened to her daughter."

The scene faded away once more, only for it to end entirely after he started actually waking up. _It's always the same dream. Always the same ending. Not even melding stops it from occurring now. Might need to talk to Doc about krogan-grade knockout pills._

He started to push the covers off him, only for something to grab them and pull on them instead. _What the? _He looked over to the opposite side of the bed, and noticed a small amount of blue sticking out from the top of a bulge in the sheets when he did. _Oh right, forgot about her. Must be still drained after all that._

He stood up from the bed and walked over to where he left his armor by the entrance during the events leading up to this. As he did, the clomping of his steps apparently woke her up, as her head appeared above the covers and she slowly examined the room looking for him. She found him without too much trouble, and spoke in a groggy, tired voice when she did. "Time to get up already? Can't I have five more minutes?"

He couldn't help but smile fondly, reminiscing about old times. "Not yet Little Rose, it's still the night-cycle onboard."

"Little what?"

He felt a pain in his chest, and shook his head to clear the memories. "Nothing important. Go back to sleep." She followed his advice, laying her head back down on the pillow. He made sure to step as quietly as he could as he walked out, grabbing his gear where he left it by the door. He went into the small area outside his personal quarters, as the only other door on the level simply went to the elevator, so he could get dressed once more. Once he was finished, he left the area, walking down the double purpose hallway/kill zone that most krogan vessels had in front of their elevators.

_Time to be Captain Vadrax once more, I should find out what happened at the station while I was out. That alien better have kept to his side of the bargain, I'd hate to have to detonate the little present I left attached to the hull of the Tooth._

* * *

**Well, what do you all think? A little short by my standards I know, but it was either that, or wait another two weeks to finish the station encounter. Hope you liked the first chapter in the mini-arc that the last phase of Awakening will become. We're going to be moving at a fast pace once I start work on them, because a LOT is going to happen to our team of unwilling allies as they go farther down the rabbit hole. Have I mentioned how much I can't wait to start writing the next several chapters? I think I have. Ah well, can't hurt to say it again.**

**The quarian section was put in to showcase both how in my head-canon, the reapers can control the outcome of corpse conversion to whatever they need for their purposes at the time (the additional info at the bottom expands on this) as well as what Setherus would be like had the nanites been indoctrinating him as they're intended to. It was also a way for me to practice writing for quarian's in future chapters, as I intend to have a quarian or two playing a role in the next arc. While I don't have any current plans to have another segment from Nil'Medor's pov, I do intend for him to still be used by the MC's in a way that helps their long-term goals of getting ready for the reapers, as he isn't just going to die as a lab-rat. It'll be a while before that particular connection pays off (as in several centuries), but I hope that it surprises you with the results, even if you can probably guess the event I have in mind. I feel like a broken record at this point, but the plans I have for when we get there are going to be a blast to write out, even if it will take me months of working up to it.**

**I hope that the parts of Valora's backstory I revealed here will keep all of you interested in learning more. Just remember this whenever I have her, or anyone else really, talking/thinking about their past: everything they say is from their perspective, and may not be what actually happened, so don't expect this to be the last we hear about the events earlier in her life. Now that I mention it, apply this rule to Besk as well. *foreshadowing intensifies***

**I have to say, I'm rather happy with how the Besk section turned out though, especially considering it wasn't part of my original planning for this chapter. Not your typical krogan, as I'm sure you'll all agree. The reason for this is rather simple really: he's part of the last generation of truly proud krogan (well, that, and because he likes the blue, all-female space elves over the she-hulks that are krogan women). I'll try to explore more about how different the krogan of this age are compared to most of the one's we encounter in the games as we progress (perfect examples of this generation of krogan: Wrex, Patriarch, Doctor/Warlord Okeer, Nakmor Drack etc), as these were the same people that nearly toppled the Citadel after all, not the long dead corpse of a once galaxy spanning empire. They are indeed headed that direction, however, so for now, we get to enjoy them as they were before they lost all hope. Also, yeah, hope I did a krogan getting 'promoted' to Captain in a way that was fun to watch.**

**This is my theory in regards to the reapers in the games, and will be canon in my story as such. The cannibals, husks, and banshees of ME3 are good examples of a races dead being made with psychological warfare in mind, targeting each species most common fear with the finished results. The batarian fear would be having to consume their own kind after one of the numerous food shortages in hegemony space, the human fear of being turned into a mindless undead monster is fairly obvious, and the asari fear being that of having their beauty stripped from them and replaced with something nightmare inducing instead. The fact that nearly every species is afraid of their design is intentional as well, they've had countless eons to refine the process after all. As for marauders and collectors, they were intended more for practicality than fear tactics, as the turians and protheans they are built off of tend not to allow fear to control their actions as much as the other races.**

**One other thing, the name Ocean gave the quarian is pronounced as follows: Cerhn (serhn) Perdweigh (per-dway).**

**Well, that's this chapter done. Take care of yourselves while I'm on vacation, don't want to come back and find out that one of you managed to break FF when I wasn't paying attention :P**

**As always, I hope you enjoyed and I'll see you next time!**


	9. Chapter 9

*****The Broken Reaper*****

**Chapter 9: Awakening: The First Step is Rarely the Best one**

* * *

**AN: HONEEEYYY, I'M HOOMMMEEEEE! Now where's my sandwich?**

**All joking aside, wow! That last chapter seemed to have been well received, if the increase in favs and follows is any indication. Glad you all liked it! Hope I can get used to writing this again now that my vacation is over, but let's cover reviews first.**

**Prometheus-777: Let me just get this out of the way; I can neither confirm nor deny an interest in asari that would relate to having a fetish, I simply show them as I believe the other races would see them as. Because of how closely quarians and asari resemble each other (and humans too, but we're not there yet), it made sense for a teenage quarian to have an…..interest in them. *awkward pause ensues* Back to more relevant issues. In response to your question about Ocean's past, all I'll say is this: there's more to it than you think, and it's not very pleasant, so you'll just have to wait and see. I did some digging before I wrote the last chapter and found the Ke'sed is an actual quarian animal, no images for it but the description is that they look sort of like a carnivorous sheep (I know, weird), the steak and spices portion was completely original on my part though. The quarian swears are a mixture of ones from the game, a very common one in fanfics that I'm fairly sure is an actual one (keshin if you want to know), and the logical conclusion that if they worship their ancestors, they'd make at least a few curses from it.**

**Tom712: While I'm happy you like it, could you say what about it you like at least? One word reviews don't help much, but thanks anyway.**

**Blackplant: Glad you enjoy it so far, hope you'll stick around for the rest of the story!**

**With that done, let's get back into it. It's about time I got around to writing what happened on the abandoned station. Anyone wondering who the mysterious person/persons behind all this is/are, will get an answer to that question here, just don't expect the results of this to go the way you might think they will.**

**One last thing; I made an exception to my rule of only 3 POV's for this chapter, seeing as I covered all I wanted to with the first three sections before even reaching 6k words, but it still felt like it was missing something. Considering how much I ended up adding, it turned out to be a lot more than I thought, so yeah, this is the finished result. Hope I haven't gotten rusty while I was gone.**

* * *

**Cacus system, 5 minutes from meeting point.**

As he already knew his gear was ready, and seeing as the nanites were designed to automatically consume and convert any organic material that got on him for longer than 10 minutes, resulting in his armor being automatically cleaned of the blood stains that previously covered it, he decided on waiting in the shuttle cockpit. The salarian pilot, a man by the name of Trellizk, tried his best to ignore him, and as he already knew all he wanted to about him, he did the same, having a talk with Ocean instead.

_I still think it's a good name! Why do you think it's not, you haven't come up with anything better have you? _He said with some annoyance. They had been debating options off-and-on for nearly a minute now, which for him meant it lasted close to an hour, so his patience was almost gone.

_Well, no, but really? It's not a very original name to say the least, never mind how you didn't even put much thought into it. Are you sure that's what you want it to be called?_

_Unless you want to refer to it as 'the ship' for the next few centuries, this is the best I can think of. Why is this such an issue with you?_

_It's just….you already gave them a name! Why do you want to give them two?!_

He mentally blinked, not even knowing how to respond for a moment. It didn't take him long to come up with a reply, however. _Is that jealousy I hear? Have you been arguing with me this entire time because you were jealous?_

She didn't respond, giving him an answer even without any words. For the first time during the conversation, he felt amused at the entire thing, letting out a small laugh because of it. _God above, you are jealous!_

_Oh shut up, you darkness damned swashbuckler._

He had to resist laughing even more at the old idiom used to refer to the roguish sailors from his kind's golden age on the seas. He managed to calm down enough to think of what he should do, eventually arriving at something he was sure would suffice. _If you really have that much of a problem with it, then there's a simple solution isn't there?_

_That being?_

_I can give you a second name too._

There was a small pause before she answered, proving she was at least taking it seriously. _And what would this second name be?_

_Sern'peduey tes'ul Entral'inon._

She didn't say anything for a full ten seconds of real-time, but he could imagine the shocked look on her face. When she did finally speak, it was in an odd, almost sad, melancholic tone. He didn't pay it much attention, seeing as he was keeping his eyes focused on how the salarian pilot operated the shuttle during his mental conversation. _Hopeful Future in this Young Tomorrow? Huh. That's actually not bad._

_See, I CAN make good names._

_Oh hush, don't make me regret agreeing with you. _She paused once more, before speaking up again in her normal playful manner. _I suppose it'll have to do, but it's a little bit of a mouthful. I'd rather stick with Ocean when we're in normal conversation, if it's all the same to you._

_*sigh* Fine, but I can't believe you made me go through all that trouble and you're still not happy! I wonder if every species' women are like this?_

_You're just mad you didn't do that earlier._

Deciding to avoid proving her right, he continued the conversation from where they left off. _Now that that's out of the way, will you open the connection to Orchestra? I'd rather get this done before we arrive. _

_Yeah, yeah, give me a moment to get in touch with them._

True to her word, it only took less than a second for a new voice to join in, sounding almost identical to the deep, echoing one Ocean used to have. _Prime_ _Conductor Premalon, was there something you wished us to do?_

_Oh God above, I forgot about that. Simply refer to me as Premalon in the future, alright?_

_The desired changes have been put in place. Is there another task you require us for?_

He had to stop and think, trying to decide the best way to speak to it. Eventually he decided on talking with it in a professional manner, not showing any emotion as he spoke. _Good. Now then, I wanted to get in contact with you personally about giving the universal form an actual name._

_According to recovered files, all universal forms are designated based off of the species they are created from. Do you wish to change the current designation from Trescari to something else?_

He was a bit shaken by the question, but managed to recover enough to continue on without showing it. _Yes, from now on the ship will be referred to as Retribution. You can change it a little if you want, but that will be the name used for the foreseeable future._

_Affirmative, Premalon. The alterations have already taken place. Is there another task you require us for?_

_No, that was everything. Continue to hold your position outside the system, make sure the temporary engines are primed for use in case of any ambushes._

_Affirmative, continuing to follow previous command._

He ended the connection on his end, leaving a long silence afterward. It was eventually broken by the person he very nearly forgot was still present. _Weeellllll, that was awkward._

_You could've helped out at any time you know?_

_And spoil your first real conversation with Orchestra? Why I wouldn't even think of it!_

He wanted to respond in the normal sarcastic manner his conversations with Ocean usually went, but stopped when he saw the shuttle nearing what looked like a small, almost unnoticeable, strange-looking object far away from any of the system's planets. It was rectangular in shape, seeming as if it was a mid-sized asteroid, and if it wasn't for the metallic glint he could see due to the local star, he was sure no one would even be able to tell the difference visually. His suspicions were proved correct when the pilot spoke up.

"Nearing destination, you might want to head to the rear if you wish to join the other two." He said.

"Alright, just make sure to let me know if you any problems come up." The salarian didn't say anything in response, letting him know exactly how the alien felt about him.

_Need to cut this short, we're approaching the station. I'll let you know if we run into any trouble._

_Good luck. See what you can find, data or otherwise, while you're there._

_Will do, and be sure to take care of our guests. Those tests are very likely even more important than this trip in the long run._

_Is that your way of making me feel more important?_

_Maybe. Is it working?_

_Heh, in a way. I'll talk to you soon, you grumpy old pirate._

_Whatever you say, you annoying little blabbermouth._

He decided to end the conversation before she could respond, no doubt cutting off a witty comeback of some sort. As he entered into the troop compartment of the shuttle, he looked over the two people inside. Setherus was performing the finishing touches on his preparations, while the asari, which he decided to refer to as Valora rather than Sederis, was having obvious trouble checking over her armor with only one hand. Seeing an opportunity to raise her opinion of him, he decided to try and help, calmly walking over to her, while testing the relatively fresh connection he could already feel coming from the nanites in her system.

"Need some help with that?"

"I'm fine, go help the turian with his gear." She said while trying to use her right arm to check the seals on the left side of her back.

"You're positive you don't need any help? We're less than two minutes away from the station now, so you need to be absolutely sure." He tried pushing her into being more cooperative and trusting, getting rewarded with her releasing a long sigh before nodding her head. Not wanting to let her have second thoughts, he moved into the same practiced motions he learned two days earlier, checking over as much of her armor as he could in a relatively short period of time.

"Looks like you're good to go. Word of warning though: the patch job on your wrist might give you some trouble if it gets put under stress, so I would suggest avoiding anything that might re-open it. If whatever it is opens the seal, I can guarantee the wound on your wrist would soon follow, and that would be unpleasant for everyone involved."

She let out a small snort for some reason, making him tilt his head. "Sorry, it's just that you sound almost exactly like Doc."

"Is that a good thing?" He asked, not knowing how to respond.

"I suppose you could say that. What about your own gea-" she was interrupted by the pilot speaking over the shuttle comms "We are nearing the drop-off point, prepare for possible vacuum, the airlock we are connecting to seems to be the only maintained section of the entire station."

He was fairly annoyed at the interruption, having finally gotten Valora talking to him without any underlying fear or anger, but decided he could always continue working on it later. "Guess I should grab what I'm bringing with. A small tip for when we're inside; if we have to do any fighting, just stay back and target whatever or whoever I miss. Most people apparently have trouble keeping up with me."

Setherus let out a scoff, mumbling a few words over the channel. "You can say that again, it's rather hard to find someone that would willingly charge straight into a crowd of armed mercs all gunning for them. Only someone crazy, overconfident, or dangerous enough to be on the same level as a spectre would even consider it."

"Uhh, you two having problems or something?" Asked Valora.

"Nothing you need to worry about, mercenary."

"Wasn't asking you, bareface."

"What was that, you money-obsessed piece of varren shit!?"

"You heard me, you soft-plated recruit!"

"Handless, ten-credit whore!"

"Pointy-headed, mindless drone!"

Knowing that if he let the conversation continue they would only try to kill each other, and seeing as his patience had already been used up with Ocean, he spoke in a voice that he hadn't used since he led that last, disastrous assault on reaper lines. "ENOUGH ALREADY, BOTH OF YOU! We have enough problems without you fucking children bickering over who has the biggest reproductive organs! ACT YOUR DARKNESS DAMNED AGE!"

Both of them reeled back in shock, obviously not expecting the outburst, and wisely decided not to say a word once he finished. It didn't take him long to calm down, being able to slow time to a trickle had that effect after all, so he went to attach his selected weapons to his armor. He went with only one of the Tornado's for a shotgun, grabbing a Stiletto as the pistol, and picking a Phaeston rather than a second Tornado. He also made sure to grab several overloads and flashbangs, not wanting to use anything that might rupture the station's outer hull. Once he was finished he turned around, seeing both of them continuing to stare, which made him realize it had only been half a minute since his outburst. Even though he didn't technically need to, he took a deep breath before speaking. "Come on, it wasn't that bad, was it? We have other things to focus on; are the two of you ready to go?"

When he said the words, it was as if they both realized what they were doing, as they went back to examining themselves once more, although he was certain Setherus had checked the section of armor that he was scanning twice already. Deciding not to say anything more, he walked over and stood by the exit hatch for the shuttle airlock, waiting for it to open.

* * *

He finished checking over his armor just in time, as there were various noises coming from the shuttle as it docked with the old recon outpost. While he was walking towards the now opened hatch, he accidentally bumped his elbow against the merc, causing her to speak. "Watch it, pointy."

"Speak for yourself, handless."

Premalon apparently wanted none of it, cutting the two of them off again. "If I have to tie one of you up and leave you on this shuttle, I will. Either work together, or enjoy the feeling of not being able to move until we get back to the meeting point."

Not knowing if he was serious or not, and remembering how he was reduced to a 15 year-old getting yelled at by a drill instructor on his first day in training not even a minute earlier, he decided to not say anything else. It turned out to be a wise decision, as the moment the airlock finished it's decontamination cycle, they came face-to-face with a half-dozen black-and-orange armored turians, all aiming rifles in their direction. He spent less than a second to identify an area with good cover on the other side, spotting a cutout in the wall meant for repelling boarders, stereotypical of turian design, and dove for it, just ahead of Sederis and just behind Premalon. Rather than the hail of slugs getting sent their direction that he expected, he found himself surprised when instead one of them spoke over the general channel. "There's no need for violence! I've been ordered to bring you in alive if possible."

He only now just recognized what their armor coloration meant, completely freezing as the realization dawned on him. _Blackwatch? Only one of the Primarchs or High Generals has authorization to move an entire squad around, so what the hell are they doing here? Unless….._

He couldn't even complete the thought, a pit forming in his stomach at the very idea. He was about to speak up, when Premalon asked the question he intended to. "Ordered by who exactly? Last I checked, the Hierarchy doesn't go around attacking their own ships!"

The only answer they received was silence, before a crackling noise went over the channel, followed by a deep, obviously fake, voice. "A pleasure to finally meet you, Premalon. I must say, I certainly didn't expect this to happen when I hired that krogan thug to retrieve you. A pity that he won't be able to pay his debts off now, but there are more important things to discuss."

Premalon responded, sounding as if he was distracted by something. "It's obvious you already know my name, and I'm fairly certain I know how, but may I ask what yours happens to be?"

The response he got was an almost cruel-sounding chuckle, before whoever it was spoke once more. "I am but a humble information broker, earning a living in the shadows of society. You intrigue me, Premalon. That fiction you gave to the turians back on Jartar would've fooled anyone else, and I will freely admit to it almost fooling me. A pity for you that I have more than a few connections I was able to use to disprove it."

"It's an even greater pity that I happen to have better than average hacking programs, asari."

"What? How did you-" the unknown cut itself off, before speaking in an obviously frantic voice several seconds later "END THE TRANSMISSION, NOW! WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT WON'T TURN OFF?! CUT THE DAMNED POWER LINES THEN!"

At this point, Setherus was well and truly lost, having no idea what they were talking about. He didn't get to hear more, however, as a noise that reminded him of grinding metal mixed with thunder came from his helmet speakers, ending in a sudden, electronic *SNAP*. What followed was close to half-a-minute of dead silence, before Premalon shot out from their cover, charging straight for the Blackwatch team. He was about to panic, but when he looked around the corner he saw all six of them holding both sides of their helmets, trying to block out whatever sound they must've been hearing. One of them managed to pull their helmet off, firing at him from where he stood. He ducked back into cover, not knowing how to react at being shot at by members of the organization he once seriously considered joining, only barely registering Sederis about to throw a grenade at them, grabbing her arm before she could. "WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING!? THOSE ARE HIERARCHY SOLDIERS DOWN THERE!"

She yanked her arm away, giving him a glare through the clear visor she had. "Hierarchy soldiers? Hierarchy FUCKING SOLDIERS?! YOU THINK I CARE!? YOU THINK THEY CARE?! GET YOUR HEAD IN THE GAME, KID! THEY ARE MORE THAN WILLING TO KILL US, SO DO IT TO THEM BEFORE THEY CAN!"

While he wouldn't say it out loud, he knew she was right, so he shook his head to try and focus on what he had spent the past five years learning. _Start with overloads, aim for center mass, tap the trigger, don't pull, one round for the remaining shields, one to put them down. Just like in basic…just like in basic…_

He followed the training ingrained into him, leaning out of cover to launch one of his overloads at the center of the squad, following it up by firing at the closest one to him, which just so happened to be the one that shot at him before. The other turian was far enough away from the blast for his shields to be unaffected by the grenade, so they held for his first two rounds. He was about to fire a third, when he saw the telltale biotic blue around his opponent. _Shit! Don't tell me they're a cabal team!_

He got back into cover, just barely avoiding what was apparently a warp, as it started eating away at the metal corner where he previously stood. He was about to repeat the process, when Sederis reached her arm around him to send a warp of her own downrange. She apparently had better luck, as when he tried spotting his target again, the only thing he saw was a corpse with a large hole in it's chest. "I had it taken care of, handless."

"Sure you did, pointy, sure you did. What happened to Premalon?"

"I think I have an idea." He said after he looked where he sent his overload earlier. She tilted her head, to which he responded by pointing at the area. She turned to where he indicated, and when she did, had to visibly keep herself from vomiting. He couldn't blame her, the results of whatever carnage that took place would've made even the most bloodthirsty batarian stare in shock.

* * *

She was about to head back down into the prison deck to continue the tests again, when she received a worryingly serious sounding message from Hystuss.

_Ocean, we may have another problem._

_Already? But I thought you just got there!_

_We did, sending a live signal now._

When he said it, she received the information almost immediately, sitting her body down so she could put all of her focus on what he was seeing instead. "Ordered by who exactly? Last I checked, the Hierarchy doesn't go around attacking their own ships!"

There was a pause, followed by some white noise, before someone spoke up, using a voice filter of some sort. "A pleasure to finally meet you, Premalon. I must say, I certainly didn't expect this to happen when I hired that krogan thug to retrieve you. A pity that he won't be able to pay his debts off now, but there are more important things to discuss."

_Well, that's ominous. Want me to trace the signal back to it's source?_

_Do it._

_No problem, this shouldn't take longer than a few seconds._

She got to work on following where the audio came from. _Let's see here….starts from a local comms buoy, goes through several connections in what they call the terminus….huh, that's weird, it goes through their Citadel at least ten times, almost as if…_

_You found something I take it?_

_Clever little shark. The signal originates on the Citadel, but travels the galaxy six times, going through well over a thousand different locations. Whoever this is, they certainly don't fool around, any normal hacker would never be able to find them._

_So you're having trouble locating their exact position?_

_Please, I said any NORMAL hacker. Just keep them talking while I work on it._

_Should be easy enough._

"It's obvious you already know my name, and I'm fairly certain I know how, but may I ask what yours happens to be?"

_Almossttt…annnndddd…..there! Well, well, looks like whoever they are, they sure do have good taste. Want to take a look?_

_Show me._

She did as he asked, sending him the vid feed she was receiving, showing a wall-to-wall window of a place she remembered seeing during her little study session about the Citadel.

_I take it you know where this is?_

_The scenery, yes, where they're actually located? Not so much._

_Why not?_

_Because whoever they are, they have the signal bouncing around so many places even I can't locate it. The fact I can get this much without it being scrambled by whatever encryption they have is by itself purely luck. It goes to an advertisement, which goes to a food vendor, which goes to an aircar, which jumps onto a dozen different omni-tools, before going to a different section of the station entirely. As for the scenery, I just so happened to come across it during my research. What you see before you is the Presidium section of the Citadel, where the super-rich and generally upper class citizens live, including our friend, the turian Councilor. Couldn't tell you exactly where on it though._

_Looks like we know where we're headed next then. Alright, that's more than enough to start with, let the vid play in real-time._

She let the speed revert back to normal, paying attention both to it, as well as the transmission she was still getting from Hystuss. Less than a second later though, she focused as much as she could on the other feed, as someone began walking in front of it, laughing as they did.

"I am but a humble information broker, earning a living in the shadows of society. You intrigue me, Premalon. That fiction you gave to the turians back on Jartar would've fooled anyone else, and I will freely admit to it almost fooling me. A pity for you that I have more than a few connections I was able to use to disprove it." _Come on, look over here already, make sure to smile for posterity._

_Having fun are we?_

_Who, me?_

_Yes, you. Have you managed to get their face yet?_

_No, but I can already tell what species they are. 1.65 meters tall, blue or purple skin, body proportions similar to females of several other species, both in their codex and our files. We're looking at an asari. They seem to be avoiding the camera though, that's going to be a problem if it keeps up._

_Think I should try getting their attention?_

_I'm not stopping you, but what makes you think you can?_

_Watch and learn, Ocean, watch and learn._

"It's an even greater pity that I happen to have better than average hacking programs, asari."

_Waitwaitwait, did you really just do that?_

_Keep watching._

Sure enough, the asari spun around, giving them both a perfect view of her face. _And the culprit is!...I actually have no idea. Do you?_

_Not a clue, you aren't getting anything from the extranet?_

_Nothing, which by itself is an oddity. By their own admission, nearly everyone in the galaxy has at least one picture of themselves on the net, with some starting directly from birth. That she doesn't even have a presence in that respect-_

_Means she's done quite a bit of work to remove herself from existence. Weeellllll shit, this just got a lot harder._

_That's one way of looking at it._

"What? How did you-" The asari looked directly at the camera, silently cursing if Ocean had to guess, before destroying it with a biotic punch.

_Think she's mad? I think she's mad._

_Now, now, Ocean, if you're going to taunt her, do it right._

_True enough, guess there's still one more thing I can do to piss her off._

_That being?_

_If I said, it would be telling, now wouldn't it? To use a line from you, keep watching._

She played around with whatever settings she could find, not really trying for anything specific mind you, just causing as much chaos as she could. While it wasn't actually very much, there was still one little present she could leave, a special virus she made that simply kept any low-end, by her standards anyway, programming from functioning. It turned out to be a great success, proven by what the asari said next. "END THE TRANSMISSION, NOW! WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT WON'T TURN OFF?! CUT THE DAMNED POWER LINES THEN!"

_Remind me never to let you into my omni-tool._

_I thought you disliked the thing?_

_It's growing on me, just wish I could change the color._

_You mean you didn't even read the owners manual? It's completely free on the net!_

_Well, I was a little bit busy most of the time, in case you haven't noticed._

_*sigh* I've said it once, and I'll probably say it a thousand times before you get the point: where would you be without me? Just go into the settings, scroll down to 'change display preferences', select it, and keep going until you find the color spectrum. Think you can remember that?_

_Oh quiet, my memory is just as good as yours._

_A sad thing then that you don't use it for anything overly important._

_If it's fine with you, I'm about to go have a good warmup with these turians, so are you going to help or do I need to end this conversation?_

_Fine, no need to get mad about it. What did you want help with? Shouldn't it be easy to go through a few under-prepared thugs in shiny armor?_

_Yes, but that's not what I wanted. I was wondering if there were designs for melee weapons in the recovered files, specifically ones that can be built into the forearm. Have anything like that?_

_Could you give me something to work with here? What exactly do you want?_

_Well…I had an idea about having 30 centimeter blades that could extend above my wrist whenever I wanted them, sort of like how my helmet can form in seconds. Does that help?_

_I think I know just the thing. Give me a second to find it._

She began a search of the designs still in the ship's storage, quickly finding and copying the one she had in mind, sending it over the connection once she did. _This is what I was thinking of._

_Wait a second, 'extendable vibration blades, design intended to take replacement material while in operation'. Are these what I think they are?_

_Yup! Self-repairing wrist-mounted vibro-blades! The nanites that comprise the blade's edges are constantly moving, via their magnetic properties being put to good use, both cutting and collecting organic matter as they go, resulting in an effective, nearly unbreakable, combat upgrade for your armor. Is this what you had in mind?_

_Is it my birthday already? God above, YES, these are perfect!_

_Glad you like them. It'll take a while for the building process to complete, so I'll see if I can occupy our intruders in the meantime._

_Hey, go wild, not like the poor suckers will survive all that long afterwards._

_I love it when you let me cut loose._

He chuckled in response, apparently content to sit back and watch, allowing her to have some much needed entertainment. _Let's see, if I remember correctly, turians have rather sensitive hearing, so if I adjust their helmet speakers like this….._

She turned the volume on their helmets up to the absolute maximum, playing some sort of 'club music' she found on Wetube. It had the intended effects, as all six turians almost fell over once it started, making her very nearly cackle in sadistic glee. While she was playing around with decreasing and increasing the volume at random intervals, lowering it just long enough for them to recover and then increasing it as high as she could, the blades finished forming, ending her fun before it could really get started. _Yeesh. I know I said go wild, but that's cruel even by my standards._

_Like you said, they won't last much longer anyway, so it's not like they'll have to live with the results._

_And just like that, you lost control over the volume of anything we might watch in the future._

_Hey, no fair!_

_It's your own fault, this should serve as a lesson in how far you should go._

_Said the person about to messily kill them all._

He didn't say anything, but she could see his shoulders shrug over the visual feed she was still getting. Immediately after he did, he brought his arms in front of his face, deploying both blades at the exact same time. They glistened a shade of bright purple once they were fully extended, reflecting the white coloring of the stations lights off of them. _Have I mentioned how much I love these things?_

_Test them first, flirt with them later._

_You're no fun._

_Hush, go kill stupid birds now._

_Yes, mother._

She couldn't help but let out a snort in reply, but calmed down in time for the real show to begin. He ran out from behind cover, headed straight for them at full speed. They were still over ten meters away, so he had to go into another cutout only halfway there, managing to avoid a burst from the only turian to have removed his helmet so far. An overload went off in the middle of the five other turians, disorienting them even more, while the one without a helmet took a shotgun burst to his shields, almost guaranteed to have come from Setherus. _Say what you will about the kid, but he does know how to use the tools of his trade._

She didn't get a response, as Hystuss came out from behind his cover again, making a final sprint to get into close range. She could see only two other turians that had actually managed to recover enough to copy the one he left behind, although considering how there was blood dribbling down the sides of their heads, they were probably in more than a little pain. He managed to get to one of them while still two meters away, lunging for the now exposed, and conveniently no longer protected by a barrier, neck of his opponent. The blades did their work well, less cutting and more ripping the head from it's owner's body, sending a large spray of blue liquid onto the walls. Not wasting a second, he moved for the second one, using the corpse as temporary cover from any rounds sent his way. Sure enough, the only turian still wearing a helmet, most likely because he had already gone deaf, managed to send several bursts towards him, every round hitting his meat-shield instead. The effect of the rounds impacting the freshly made corpse caused even more blood to splatter over the metal paneling, as well as Hystuss himself. He threw the body at the offending turian, a wet crunch being made when they impacted, and moved back to his original target. Said alien was busy panicking, firing wild and uncontrolled rounds at him, missing with more than half of them. Rather than rush him, or even find cover, Hystuss just stood there, letting any rounds that did hit him do so. If she had to guess, he was already bored with just killing them, and decided to instead test the shields on his body. Considering he stood for five seconds under direct attack with his shields barely even budging, he must've reached a decision, as he simply walked past the apparently crazed turian, since even though his gun had long since overheated he still held the trigger down, and casually made a large vertical cut along the side of his armor, not even looking at the results. He tried finding the other two, only now noticing how there were multiple open doorways in the area he had arrived at that they most likely ran down to try and get away. _Well, that was disappointing. Are you sure they were actual Blackwatch members? The only one that seemed to know what he was doing was that first guy, everyone else just played follow the leader._

_Well, there's a good chance they were simply mercenaries, this information broker seems to prefer employing their kind._

_How annoying. I mean not even using actual soldiers to ambush me? Downright insulting._

_Don't worry, I'm sure we can find someone up to your standards somewhere out there. Aren't you going to finish off that guy you used as a body cushion for your former meat-shield?_

_Oh right, almost forgot about that. _He walked over to the groaning man on the floor, barely moving even though the body thrown at him kept going after they collided with each other, and simply slammed his leg down on the now cracked chestplate, shattering it completely. After doing so, he repeated the process, actually shoving his foot into the hopefully dead man's chest cavity. _Oops._

_Really? You get on me for being cruel and yet you do that?_

_Not my fault I'm still getting used to this extra strength._

_Riiiggghhhttt._

He didn't respond, pulling his leg out, along with what she assumed were the turian's intestines. _Wow, wanna try for his stomach next? What about his lungs?_

_Ok, so maybe it was a bad idea to do it a second time! There, I admitted it, are you happy now?_

_*sigh* Just track those other two down, we have more important things to deal with than bottom-feeders._

_Shouldn't be a problem. I wonder how the heat sensors handle fully enclosed armor though?_

_Not very well I'm afraid. Try as they might, even the reapers need to follow some rules of reality. You should probably rely on motion sensors for this._

_Sounds good to me, time to play a fun game of find the bait-fish._

_You had a really weird childhood, you know that?_

_Sorry, could you repeat that? It sounds like there's some interference on your end._

_Pirate._

_Blabbermouth._

She couldn't help but shake her head, an amused smile forming on her face. She decided to cut the connection so she could get back to her actual work, rather than watch a grown man playing with his new toys. _Now that I mention it, I haven't really tested out my biotics yet, have I? Might be a good way to pass the time at the very least, should probably read a few thousand articles on it before I begin though. To think that I had to wait a billion years before I could just sit down and do absolutely whatever I want to. The mysteries of life I suppose._

* * *

Valora had not been enjoying the 'job' so far. _Let's see: ambushed by turian spec-ops before we even got inside the station, informed that some crime lord, who will very likely try to kill us in the future, was the one to offer us that job, dealing with a turian that would rather be fighting me than the guys trying to kill him, and now the alien I'm put underneath for this mission is acting as if this was a horror movie, and he's the monster. I fucking hate my life right now…_

"Sederis, I think I found one!" _Ah yes, problem number three. Joy._

"They notice you yet?"

"I don't think they could notice anything right now, take a look."

"Fine, I'll be right over." They were currently trying to do one of two things: find Premalon, or find anyone not yet turned into a messy smear on the wall. She honestly didn't expect that second one to be a possibility, considering the remains in the room they started in. Once she was close enough to Kalnen, he indicated what, or rather who, he was talking about. "Well I'll be damned, this one looks practically untouched."

"That's what I thought at first too, take a closer look though." Following the advice, she walked up to the unidentified turian, looking them over once she was right above them.

_Seems like this one had the brains to run at least, but why would he take his helmet...off…oooohhhh._

"I see what you mean. He may have done everything right earlier, but the moron still hit their head after slipping on the floor when they made that last turn."

"She, actually."

"What do you mean-" she cut herself off after examining them more closely, noticing a distinct lack of a fringe "Oh, right, forgot only the males have one of those."

"Well, help me out here, we'll need her for later."

"Why? I thought we were just trying to hunt down anyone your little psychopath missed." She felt an uncomfortable sensation in her head, reminding her of several hangovers she'd experienced in her life.

_I'll be having a long talk with him when this is all over. Either I get answers, or I swear by the Goddess, I'll leave the Maw entirely, beachside house be damned._

"According to Council law, all incapacitated combatants are to be secured and brought in for questioning. Right now though the Council can go to hell, I just want answers from this one, you can space them afterward for all I care."

_Well what do you know, pointy and I actually agree on something for once!_

She gave a small nod, speaking after she did. "Well then, by all means, let's get the bitch back to the shuttle."

"Has anyone ever told you that you have a problem with language?"

"Yes, and I don't fucking care. Now can we get moving? No telling how long we'll be able to stay here now that we have a target painted on our skulls."

He paused to think, showing she wasn't the only one concerned about what just happened. "Alright then, I've had enough of this outpost for a lifetime."

"Yours or mine?"

"Spirits dammit, you know what I mean!"

She let out a small chuckle, finding that it was even easier to annoy him than it was Drurn. They managed to pick the female up without any trouble, of course her use of biotics to lighten the load may have helped a little. They made it back to the airlock they came through, the hallway still littered with the remains of the dead turians. They almost got through without any trouble, when there was a blood-curdling scream that echoed from back where they came, before suddenly being replaced with total silence. "Well….guess we know what happened to number six."

"I'm going to need to visit a bar or three after all this." Muttered Kalnen.

"Save me a seat, I won't leave it until we're both so drunk we can't even move."

"Maybe in the next millennia."

"HAH! I'll hold you to that!"

They didn't say anything else until they were inside the shuttle, the pilot speaking up from the cockpit. "I see the mission was a success, do you need restraining cuffs for our 'guest'?"

"Don't worry, I know where they are." She said, moving to the shuttle storage to get them. They were still there, so she brought a pair of them over to the prisoner, attaching them on the wrists and just above the spurs.

"I think it's about time for little miss moron here to finally wake up." She said to Kalnen.

"Agreed. Do you want the first go, or should I?"

"Your species, your choice."

"Fine, I'll take a shot at it. I…may need some help though."

"What, interrogation wasn't part of your training?" She asked with some sarcasm.

"It was, actually. I just need you to play the sympathy angle; we turians know exactly what we'll do to each other, but asari have a reputation for being compassionate to those that suffer."

"Oh." Was all she could say in reply.

_Just who in Athame's name is this guy? One minute he's just a naive, bumbling kid, the next he's casually telling me how he wants to tear some information out of someone like a professional, as if there's nothing strange about him knowing how to do it! Why am I always the one Besk throws these jobs at?_

They were about to begin the most likely unpleasant work, when the airlock opened, revealing a figure covered in the blue of turian blood on the other side, carrying what looked like a body over his shoulder. She knew who it was already, considering it was impossible for it to have been anyone else, but couldn't help but be confused at the corpse he was carrying. _Wait a second, is that what I think it is?_

Sure enough, Premalon dropped it into the middle of the troop compartment, letting her get a good look at the biotically made hole in the turian's chest. She was about to ask him why he wanted to bring it with, but Kalnen spoke up before she could. "Where in the spirits were you!? I was starting to think you lost yourself to a bloodrage or something!"

"Bloodrage? Aren't krogan the only species that can go into one of those? Suppose I can look it up later. I went hunting for the last two mercenaries, although you appear to have found the one I was looking for."

Seeing a chance to ask her own question, and deciding to ask a second one because of what he just said, she spoke up.

"Why the hell did you bring that with?" she said while gesturing to the corpse "And what did you mean by 'mercenaries'? I thought those guys were Blackwatch, or whatever the turian black-ops division is called."

"Well, when I caught up with the one I was after, I decided to 'ask' him a few questions." _OH COME ON! Is every person I meet from now on going to know how to perform interrogations?! _"To sum it up, only our dead friend over here was an actual member of the group, being an off-duty Cabal member. Turns out he was less off-duty than he should've been, as he would often run errands like this for whoever that information broker is, at least according to the one I asked. Were you about to start work on yours? I can just watch if you want me to."

She was about to mention how he didn't answer the first question, when the pilot chimed in, speaking in what she guessed was the salarian version of panic. "Scanners just picked up a turian cruiser exiting FTL, the only response to hails is the message 'the broker sends their regards'! Is everyone onboard?! We need to leave!"

Knowing exactly how good the odds were of an old krogan shuttle, something effectively just a bunker with engines, outrunning a well maintained and crewed military vessel, she spoke up before anyone else could. "There's no way we can complete the jump in time, never mind how we'd be an easy target for them. I don't know about the two of you, but I'm not liking our chances!"

"I'll see what I can do, hopefully there's someone onboard who'll listen to reason." Said Kalnen, making her eyes roll. _And now he's a naïve kid again. Goddess, can't he make up his mind?_

She was about to speak up again, but this time it was Premalon that interrupted her. "I may actually have something that could help, but first, you have to agree to what I'm about to ask."

Not in the mood to play games when her life was at risk, she all but yelled out her next words. "What the hell do you mean by that!? You'll die too if they get here!"

For some reason he didn't even react, simply going on as if she didn't say anything. "If you swear on what you hold most dear not to mention what happens next to anyone outside of the people on this shuttle, I can guarantee we'll make it."

She was about to say more, but Kalnen beat her to it. "Seems like a good deal to me. If it keeps us from being turned into debris, I swear on my honor as a turian that whatever it is won't get mentioned outside of present company."

Premalon gave him a nod before looking towards the cockpit. "Trellizk?"

"Yes, yes, swear upon my clan not to say anything, just make sure it works!"

He gave another nod, looking to her in turn. "Valora?"

She grumbled for several seconds, a steady pain growing in her skull, alongside an urge to agree. "Fine, but I want some answers after this. You two have been leaving me in the dark about something and I'm getting fucking tired of it, so I'll only agree if you do. Deal?"

"Deal. I intended to tell the two of you about quite a few things once this was over anyway, so I suppose this saves me the trouble of finding a good time to do it. Now all that's left is for the turian pretending they didn't just open one of their eyes to agree."

Valora was quite confused by what he said, but it didn't take her long to figure it out, especially considering she was standing in front of said turian when she spoke. "I'll do whatever you want if it means I leave here in one piece. That barefaced piece of shit only told me that this was just a simple package delivery job, didn't say anything about a super soldier or working for some underworld information dealer. I know how to keep my mouth shut, you'll have no problems with me."

"Good. Now then, it's about time they stopped lurking at the edges of every system I enter."

She didn't understand what he meant at first, but it didn't take long for her to receive an answer to the unasked question, as a behemoth of a ship appeared almost directly in front of them, soon after firing a ruby-red lance in the apparent direction of the cruiser, causing it to go up in a massive explosion before she could even blink. Every person on the shuttle was completely speechless afterwards, all except the person most likely responsible for what just took place. "Well then, I'd say that answers that particular question. So much for their shields being impressive. Ocean, tell Orchestra to have the ship prepared for some guests, we'll be heading straight to the Citadel once the engines are fixed and moved back to the Disciple. I'll inform the good Captain Vadrax about the changes before we leave, don't want him to think I'm just taking his crew away from him for no reason. One more thing, I want you to come over to us before we do head there, so be sure to increase the rate of exposure on the subjects."

They were all still at a loss for words, so none of them were in any condition to actually listen to what he was saying. She did hear what he said next, however. "I'd like all of you to meet where you'll be staying for the next several days. Go ahead and introduce yourself."

There was a slight flicker in the lighting aboard the shuttle, before a deep, imperious voice she was sure she'd remember centuries later spoke. "GREETINGS, ORGANICS. ACCORDING TO RECEIVED COMMANDS, YOU ARE TO BE ALLOWED REFUGE ABOARD US. YOUR NEEDS HAVE ALREADY BEEN TAKEN INTO ACCOUNT, AND HABITATION HAS BEEN CREATED FOR YOUR USE. WE ARE RETRIBUTION OF THE FIRST AGE, AND WE WELCOME YOU."

Her head felt like it had gone for a ride in a fabric cleaning machine, not even able to move a finger with the amount of confusion and shock she felt. As per usual, only Premalon was able to control himself, saying something that made even less sense somehow. "Retribution of the First age? That would be…..Frieren'tel'os Mehl'tir. Huh, why didn't I think of that?"

_And now he has a talking dreadnaught. A TALKING. FUCKING. DREADNAUGHT. BECAUSE WHY THE HELL NOT?!_

She took a deep breath to try and calm herself, only barely succeeding.

_I really need that vacation right about now…._

* * *

**And as they used to say in hollywood, that's a wrap. What do you all think? I know it can be maddening at times, but what can I say? Cliffhangers keep it interesting, doubly so when I can't find a way to end it without starting the next chapter.**

**When I said we were going to be moving at a fast pace during these last few chapters, I meant it. Which brings me to the next topic: I'm going to have a time-skip take place in-between one of the following chapters, which will take us just before the in-universe new years (where we're currently at is around 8 weeks before said new years), so expect a few off-screen events to happen soon enough. At least two more chapters will continue relatively close after the end of this one, maybe more if I run out of space for what I have planned, so this is just a heads-up ahead of time.**

**Seeing as I didn't do any of this on my vacation, it might come out a bit rushed, but hey, what can you expect? I was in a hurry to get this out before the week ended, so I'm actually rather pleased with the results, even if I might've made a few mistakes here and there.**

**Don't worry about keeping track of all the Trescari (the race Premalon is) names. I intend to use them in the future, but for now, just think of them as fun little bonuses rather than what we're going to be calling everyone.**

**With all that said and done, it's good to be back, and as always, I hope you enjoyed and I'll see you next time!**


	10. Chapter 10

*****The Broken Reaper*****

**Chapter 10: Awakening: A History Long Forgotten**

* * *

**AN: Huh, we're already at 10? It hasn't really been that many, has it? Well anyway, time for reviews, of which there were quite a few I'm happy to say.**

**NovaSaber: Glad you enjoyed that line, it just seemed to fit the character perfectly considering the situation, seeing as from her point of view, she had absolutely no idea what was really happening there. With all the other stories and frankly ridiculous plots out there, I'm shocked no one's ever thought to have a reaper gone rogue as a character. You have near magical leviathans and reapers that can control time, enough self inserts and isekai's that they can occupy literal weeks worth of reading, and don't even get me started on the halo/mass effect crossovers (not bashing any of them, actually love reading these types of fics when they're done right), yet not a single one has a Reaper in any sort of major role aside from being the villain. They always get shown as these infallible, unchangeable, near perfect entities bent on universal destruction, rather than thinking beings with a mind of their own. Now I can see why to a certain extent, having something like the catalyst around to control them would certainly ruin any chance of actually choosing what the individual reaper may want, but there are a lot of possibilities in the world of fanfiction, and yet no one has ever tried it before. This reasoning is what prompted me to write this in the first place; to fill the gap if you will. I'll be covering most of what you asked about in the coming chapters, so keep an eye out for updates as I get back into this.**

**lisbjerg123: Nice to see you're still enjoying my writing, your apparent wish for more chapters has been granted.**

**Tom712: Ah, that explains it. Wasn't a big issue, I was simply confused as to why you were only making them a single word. Thanks for telling me though, you've just unwittingly given me the goal of making a chapter in the future that's so good you can't help but write the massive reviews you used to! :D**

**Prometheus-777: You certainly are cutting it close with this one, I had already started writing when you put your review up. Well anyway, I won't be able to get all of what you mentioned if I did this normally, so I'll do this instead: everything I'm about to say will be in response to a different thing you mentioned, divided by whenever you quote me, starting at the top of your review and going down. Embarrassed blush. Nervous laughter. Mischievous smile turned into confusion and then raised eyebrows. Clears throat in attempt to hide nervousness. Neutral smile for rest of the review, trying to keep from giving anything away. I will say this in an actual response. The banter you enjoy so much may be part of the fun, but as you'll find out in this chapter, it's actually used as a distraction for the reaper MC's. For everyone else, it fits in with their personalities, but for the two of them, it's intended as a way to function like normal people. Basically the old saying of "if you don't laugh, you'll cry", except being used by the 'survivors' of an absolute genocide by uncaring machines. I should probably stop here before I reveal the secret connection that Captain Vadrax has with- *a purple armored man jumps through the window and knocks him unconscious*-nothing. He has a connection with nothing. You didn't see anyytthiiinnnggg. *the strange man slowly backs away from the screen, before seemingly disappearing***

**Jim: Glad you like it, it'll only get better from here (I hope). It seems that line really was the perfect way to end the chapter, as you're the third reviewer to mention it! Good job, me!**

**This is going to be a sort of in-between chapter, covering what the non-reaper MC's will be told about our favorite murder-bot and exactly what it is. 'What do you mean by that? I thought Premalon was the MC' you might be saying. To put it simply: yes and no. There are currently four main characters (not counting Orchestra as it's not what I consider a character); Premalon, Ocean, Setherus, and Valora, so basically every POV we had last chapter. They won't be the only MC's throughout this fics intended running time, but they are the primary focus for the Awakening arc, making this their 'origin story' so to speak. Now that I think about it though, this entire arc is basically one big prequel for the rest of the story, soooo yeah…. *blinks several times in realization* Guess I'm better at planning a timeline than I thought.**

**Just letting you all know, but a scene coming up will probably confuse some of you as to how it's possible unless I put this here: it's basically a cross between a reaper version of a prothean beacon, and what happened to Shepard on Rannoch with the network. You'll know what I mean when you come across it, trust me. The rest will be covered in the chapter, so let's get started, shall we?**

**A general heads up: this chapter is dedicated to the life of a certain ancient squid-person, as indicated by the name at the top, and will show parts of his past I've been working out since chapter 3, as well as some additions I've made along the way. We'll pick up where we left off, but we won't be staying there for long, as you're about to find out, so I hope you have as much fun reading this as I did writing it.**

* * *

He was making his way back to the room where he left the two aliens, having moved the corpse of the turian biotic to the section of the ship dedicated to creating specialized combat forms, talking with Ocean as he did.

_All things considered, today's been a good day._

_Why? Because of the events back on the Maw, what took place on the station, getting the vibro-blades installed, finding a new body that you can use, or having the perfect excuse to tell those two misfits about what's coming to wipe out the galaxy?_

_I see you've been busy keeping an eye on them. To answer you, all of the above, and then some. It's been ages since I've been allowed to sit back and relax as much as I have lately._

_You call all this relaxing? Are you sure you didn't hit your head during the fight?_

_Hey, compared to the daily routine back when I was still actually alive, these past couple days have been like a vacation for me._

_I….suppose looking at it from that angle, you'd be right. Those years make me glad I don't need to sleep anymore, the nightmares would be overwhelming. _She said in a low, distracted voice, most likely remembering her life during that time.

_On that, we completely agree. _He said in a somber tone, recalling his own memories of the horrifying scenery brought on by a century-long war for survival against a remorseless enemy. He walked on in silence for several seconds, before deciding to try and steer the conversation back to what they were talking about previously, in the hopes that it would give them both a much needed distraction. _Speaking of the aliens I happen to know, have you gotten ahold of Vadrax yet? I still need to let him know about the changes, and I think I have an idea as to how I can get him to agree to them._

She kept quiet for a few more seconds, eventually answering in a painfully forced cheerful tone. _I already tried contacting him, but either he's unavailable, or he decided to cut and run, leaving us in the absolutely wonderful position of having to get used to that foul-mouthed asari. Can't say I blame him for it though, I'd want to drop her off on the next sucker I came across too._

Even though he knew she was only saying it to do the same thing he was, he chuckled at it, trying to go back to their normal sarcastic banter. _Well I guess we'll need to find a way to push her off on someone else then. What are the two of them doing anyway?_

_From what I can tell, they're trying to figure out what you really are. Well, the asari is, but Setherus looks like he's too busy admiring the ship._

_I know he has an interest in the vessel, but you'd think that after seeing it once already he wouldn't be as impressed by it._

_I have a theory as to why he is._

_That being?_

_Remember when you adjusted the settings to keep the nanites from harming the brain itself?_

_Yes, and?_

_You did so after they boarded the ship._

He stopped walking, the realization dawning on him, before continuing on once more. _Meaning his personality would've been slightly changed because of it….what were the previous guidelines for them?_

_To make those affected believe reapers, or in this case us, are basically gods, and to worship them as such. For that to happen though, he would've needed to undergo several days worth of constant exposure to more and more nanites all doing the same thing, at least if the tests are any indication, eventually replacing most of his psyche with the urge to obey any order given to him by us as if he was nothing but a puppet. As it stands though, he's just far more interested in anything made with reaper tech than he should be._

_Huh. No wonder he was so curious about my body. Any way to reverse it?_

_Afraid not. The intention was for any changes to be permanent, so that if someone did manage to get away from whatever was indoctrinating them, the job could be started up again as soon as they arrive at a different area under reaper influence. Now that I mention it, doesn't all this sound awfully similar to what the traitors constantly spouted back in our time?_

_Almost an exact match. I should know, I had to kill hundreds of them throughout the war. No wonder their tactics steadily improved over time, every battle only served to give them more spies among our ranks. And here I thought it was because they actually wanted the reapers to win…_

Before Ocean could respond, he arrived at the entrance to the room where he left the two 'passengers' waiting, pausing outside of it. _What are they doing now?_

_Well, Sederis managed to finally get a reaction out of Setherus, as he's currently engaged in an entertaining verbal fistfight with her. You going to interrupt before it turns into a physical one?_

_*sigh* Again with the arguing! You'd think they were ten year-olds with how many insults they exchange every time I leave them alone for longer than five minutes! Open the door, the sooner they get informed, the better. Who knows, maybe it'll make them put their differences aside so they can focus on actual problems._

_We can only hope._

_Alright, is everything ready for us?_

_Just finished having a chat with Orchestra about it before talking to you, it's ready._

_Good. Now remember, I'll let you handle Setherus, the problem child will be my responsibility._

_Hey, I'm more than happy with that arrangement. The doors are going to open in two seconds now, want me to make any needed finishing touches?_

_Go for it, I'd rather get it right on the first try._

_Sure thing, I'll probably be done long before you arrive anyway._

His only response was a slight hum, before he ended the connection, watching the door open as he did.

* * *

He was in the process of typing out as many details about the ship as he could into his omni-tool, when he was interrupted by someone that was rapidly getting on his nerves. "So, you're not even going to pay attention to me anymore, are you, pointy? Fine by me, just means I can repeat myself. I said: WHAT THE HELL IS THIS THING?!"

_Spirits, give me the strength not to kill her. _"I'll give you the same answer I did the last four times you asked: classified."

"Classified my ass! You don't even know yourself, do you?"

"I know a lot more than you do, handless, so could you occupy yourself elsewhere? I think that pole over there needs someone short, annoying, and blue dancing on it."

"Oh that's rich coming from a turian that can barely hold his own in a firefight. Tell me, does the Hierarchy train it's soldiers how to act like a cowering salarian, or does it come natural to you?"

As he was about to angrily respond, he didn't see the door to the room opening, nor did he see the person on the other side crossing his arms in impatience. When said person spoke, however, they both cringed, while slowly turning their heads to look at where he stood. "So should I just force the two of you to live on the shuttle until we find a way onto the Citadel, or is this just a new way of exchanging information between cultures?"

"He started it!" "She started it!" They said simultaneously, making him glare at her, while she did the same. Rather than speak up again, Premalon interrupted them.

"If either of you want those answers I promised, I suggest putting your little feud aside for now, because I'm not going to waste my breath telling them to you if you're too busy trying to one-up each other."

Setherus thought about it for several seconds, coming to a conclusion he was not at all happy with. He let out a deep, shaking, sigh, before extending his hand towards the asari. "I'll stay quiet if you'll stay quiet. Don't you mercenary types prefer making deals like this?"

She stared at his hand for several seconds, before letting out a sigh of her own, grabbing his wrist as he did the same to hers. "Fine, I'll keep my mouth shut for now. There, are you happy?"

He could swear he saw a satisfied smirk form across Premalon's faceplate as he spoke, apparently enjoying his discomfort. "More than happy; it's about time Setherus started playing nice with others." He didn't know how, but he was positive the smirk had grown into a full-fledged grin, making him grumble his usual insults under his breath.

Premalon turned around, gesturing for them to follow as he did. They gave one last glance at each other before doing as he asked, following the ancient being on opposite sides of the odd triangle hallways of the ship. As they went, he noticed how different it appeared now that there was power running through it, showing the unusual design in it's entirety. _Is it just me, or does this thing's insides look less like a proper dreadnaught, and more like a living creature? Must be my imagination._

A few minutes in, they arrived at a massive chasm, prompting him to stare down into it. _Spirits! It seems as if it never ends! Why would anyone even build a ship like this?!_

He started debating whether he should ask Premalon about it, but was beaten to it by Sederis. "By the fucking goddess! What's this even supposed to be used for? Disposing of stowaways? Storing fighters? Is it just there to look impressive? And how are you supposed to get across? I'm not seeing any cargo lifts, or much of anything really."

"It's not as complicated as all that really, this is just the barrel for the main cannon."

"Just the barrel? Just the fucking barrel? Oh then that explains everything!" she said with some sarcasm "So are the engines going to be as large as a cruiser, or did you decide to be modest and only build them as big as two frigates instead?"

Premalon sighed before speaking, showing Setherus wasn't the only one getting tired with the asari's antics.

"That, and any other questions you might have, will be answered once we arrive. Was there anything else you wanted to know?" He asked, putting emphasis on the word else, making the merc wince slightly.

"Nope, that was it."

"Good." Was all he said, walking off the edge after doing so, causing Setherus to internally panic.

He immediately looked into the apparent weapon barrel once more, only to suck in a breath as when he did, he saw Premalon floating in midair. When Premalon noticed him, he let out a long bellow, making his eyes narrow. _Laugh it up, you damned squid. You don't have to wait for your heartbeat to come back down to normal levels._

"Come on down you two, the waters nice and warm! Valora, you wanted to know how we were going to cross over this, right? Well, this is how." When he finished talking, he leaned back, steadily moving further away from them. Setherus put a hand on his face in thought, before deciding what he was going to do. _Well, if the crazy cyborg can do it, it can't hurt to try, right? Right?_

Seeing as he knew there wasn't going to be any response, he sucked in a sharp breath, and started running over the side. He would never admit it to anyone that asked, but he closed his eyes and let out a slight whimper for the first second as he started falling, only to crack one of them open after noticing a distinct lack of any actual falling taking place. He looked around, trying to figure out how it was possible, and it didn't take him long to notice a small blue-black glow around his body. _Using mass effect fields for transporting personnel? Who honestly thinks that's a good idea?! No telling what could happen if the power fluctuates while you're moving! *sigh* Well, at least it seems easy to use._

When he tried getting his balance, he apparently leaned too hard, as his entire body started spinning, making Premalon laugh even more. _SPIRITS DAMMIT! I JUST HAD TO LISTEN TO HIM, DIDN'T I!?_

"That's the basic idea, but use smoother motions next time. Come on Valora, your turn!" Said Premalon happily, causing him to try and slow his movements, which resulted in the spinning to stop. He experimentally outstretched his right arm, causing his body to turn the indicated direction, placing it back at his side when he was satisfied. After that, he tried using his right leg, moving it forward. He slowly began tilting upwards, giving him a good view of what looked like a massive sliding door, where he assumed the actual cannon was. _Well what do you know, I stand corrected. Once you get the hang of it, this is pretty easy. Let's see what handless does._

He turned to face the area he jumped off from, getting more and more used to how quickly he should move his limbs to get different speeds, just in time to start watching the show.

"If you think I'm jumping out there with you, you're fucking insane!" She said while glancing between the two of them, genuine fear on her face.

"Just try it! Haven't you ever used your biotics to float?" Said Premalon.

"Once, and I wound up with a broken leg because of the fall! You can keep your crazy stunts, I'll wait here!"

Seeing a chance at getting away with provoking her, as well as some personal revenge for their conversation earlier, he couldn't help but speak up. "What? Calling it quits already, handless? Guess I'll be able to keep using that excuse after all, seeing as you're too much of a, how did you put it? Ah yes, a 'cowering salarian'! I'll talk to you once this is over with, maybe if you ask nicely I'll even share!"

He could tell the plan was working, as she gave him a glare that could melt through solid steel, before muttering what he was sure were curses, while walking back towards the hallway they entered from. A smug smile appeared on his face, only for it to be replaced with shock as a flash of blue went overhead not even three seconds later, coming down near 30 meters ahead of him. He turned around to get a better look, seeing what he now identified as Sederis wobble somewhat, before staying almost perfectly still, almost as if she was insulting his own attempts from earlier. Once she did, she went through the same motion he tried at first, turning around to face him with what looked like a smug grin of her own.

"What was that about sharing? I'm afraid I can't really hear you all that well when you're so far away!" She yelled out, turning forward again and moving to their destination. _Damned asari and their natural biotics. Make even the best turian soldier look like they're playing dress up._

He caught a glimpse of Premalon moving past him, serving as a reminder of exactly where he currently was, so tilted his chest forward, moving at a decent pace towards the other side. Sederis arrived first as she had a head start, being lowered down to the floor without any movement on her part once she was right above it, followed by Premalon, with him being the last one there, much to his displeasure and her apparent glee. Before either of them could say anything, Premalon spoke up. "Alright, this is the room I wanted to use for this. Make sure not to touch anything inside, there are quite a few things in here that could cause permanent damage to you if you're not careful."

He responded by giving him a short nod, but Sederis was apparently unsatisfied. "What's so special about this room that you need to drag us all the way here, rather than telling us back where we started at?"

"As I've said, you'll just have to wait and see. Shall we?" He asked while gesturing to the door. It opened automatically once he did, showing what he could only describe as several pods of some sort on the other side. Seeing no reason to wait any longer, he walked inside, coming up to the nearest one to examine it. It seemed fairly large, more than big enough for even an elcor, but had a clear glass panel on it's front, letting him get a close look at the interior. The only thing he noticed of any importance was how the back of it appeared to be slowly shifting into something, almost as if reacting to his presence. Eventually, he recognized what the shape was, the indentation for a turian fringe fairly obvious, combined with the spurs on the ankles.

He wanted to ask Premalon about it, only to again be beaten to it by Sederis. "What the hell are these? I walked up to one, and it started changing to copy me, even down to the missing hand! Are they some sort of ridiculously expensive sleeping pods you had made?"

"I guess you could say that, from a certain point of view. Once you're both in one, I'll tell you all you need to know, and you can ask me whatever you want afterward."

"Why do we need to go inside? Wait, are these meant for keeping prisoners? I saw this movie called Star Conflicts where a turian smuggler was turned into a metal block that way. You're trying to lock us up in here, aren't you!"

Premalon took a deep breath, obviously losing some of his patience. "I'll be going inside one myself, and if you're that concerned I'll be the first one in. Just tap the glass for it to open."

"If you think that's all it'll take to convince this asari's pale-blue ass to get in there, I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint you."

Knowing stubbornness for what it was, he spoke up. "Just get in the damn pod already, handless! If he wanted to kill either of us, he would've done it long before now."

Suiting actions to words, he opened the pod he was in front of and laid down on it. The door closed itself once he did, letting him see the incredulous look Sederis was sending his way. To add insult to injury, he held his arm up so she could see it, extending his third finger in a rude gesture. She narrowed her eyes and glared at him, eventually going inside her own pod, giving him the asari equivalent of the gesture with the small fifth finger that her kind and batarians had once it closed.

While he was busy sending her his own glare, he missed Premalon entering into a pod, as an image of all three of them projected itself on the glass in front of him, followed by the alien's voice. "Now that that's out of the way, time to get started. Small warning: this might sting a little."

He tilted his head in confusion, while Sederis spoke up.

"What do you mean by tha-" He didn't hear the rest of what she said, as it was cut off by a blazing pain in his skull, feeling like someone just lit his head on fire from the inside, causing his eyes to clamp shut.

* * *

**_1,002,148,900 years ago, unknown world._**

The pain rapidly dissipated, acting as if it was never even there, so he was more than happy that it was over._ Thank the spirits, it finally ended! Wait, what just happened?_

He opened his eyes in an attempt to regain his bearings, only to be surprised and simultaneously confused by what he saw. _What the? Where am I, and who are all of you? _He tried to say once he took in the scene in front of him, only for his mouth to refuse to open.

What he discovered next only served to confuse him even more. _Since when were there this many Premalon's? Although, they all look fairly different from each other now that I mention it. Am I simply dreaming this?_

"I still think we should make another attempt on that processing camp! We were nearly successful the last time!" Said a voice from the crowd that Setherus didn't recognize, in a language he didn't know how he understood.

His body responded without any input on his part, surprising him with how different the voice coming out of his throat was. "No, if we did that we'd only be heading into a trap. I just got a report from one of the scouts, they emptied the camp this morning and placed additional troops inside the walls. What we really need to do is-"

"Hys'tuss, the perimeter guard just spotted a reaper force headed our way!" Said another Premalon-like alien, a young female if he had to guess by the body shape and voice. _They're called Tre'scari. How do I know that? And did she say Hystuss? As in that Hystuss?! Spirits! Is this something from his time? How am I even seeing this!? But what's a reaper? I know I've heard it before, but I can't quite place it._

"Darkness dammit, I told the scouts to be careful on their way back here! How many did they see?"

"Hundreds of thousands, millions, no one could get an accurate count. They're going straight to the cave entrance without slowing down, and they have at least seven Leviathan-class ships backing them up!" As she spoke, murmurs began spreading throughout the crowd, many of them talking about trying to run for it. _Leviathan-class? Seems like a rather unusual name. Why do I recognize it though?_

He felt the muscles in his body tighten when the crowd began seriously considering trying to escape, before one of his armored hands pounded on the table they were standing around, causing them all to snap their heads in his direction. "What in the depths do you think will happen IF YOU FUCKING COWARDS RUN AND HIDE! DO YOU THINK THE REAPERS WILL JUST LEAVE YOU ALONE?! DO YOU THINK THEY'LL MAKE PEACE IF WE'RE NO LONGER A THREAT?! Well do you? DO YOU!? Because I can fucking guarantee they won't! Now sit down, shut up, and stop acting like DAMNED CHILDREN!" They followed the command, thoroughly cowed into submission. _Know what that feels like, I guess being on the receiving end was just as pleasant now as it was back in the prothean's day._

He started thinking about what the one he knew to actually be Premalon said, confused as to why he was so adamant that these reapers would do such a thing, only to stop as his body spoke up again.

"Elen'tra, take whatever children remain and go through the emergency exit! Try and find refuge closer to the ocean floor!"

"Will do, boss." Said the same female that ran in with the information.

"I've told you repeatedly, don't call me boss!" Said Premalon's voice, to no effect, as she had already left to carry out the orders. His head shook slightly, before stiffening once more. "I want all remnant forces ready within the hour, am I understood?"

A series of grim nods was the only response, followed by everyone present getting up to leave, his body included. The scene changed, confusing him with the sudden shift, to that of a battlefield inside a positively massive cavern, the screams of the dead and dying drowned out by strange sounding gunfire and explosions. Now he had seen a decent amount of impressive things in his life, but watching several near replicas of Premalon's ship walking inside a cave, with at least two on the ground destroyed from what looked like some sort of laser weaponry, he couldn't help but stare in shock. Or at least he would have, if he didn't just learn where he knew the word from. _Those things down there, and his ship too, they're reapers. But why is that important? I feel like I'm missing something here._

"IS THE SCREAMING STAR READY FOR ANOTHER BURST?!" Yelled Premalon's voice, much to his surprise.

"Just about…..NOW! READY WHENEVER YOU ARE, HYS'TUSS!" Replied an elderly sounding man on a control panel.

"ALRIGHT, AIM FOR THE ONE ON THE FAR RIGHT! THAT FLANK NEEDS ALL THE SUPPORT IT CAN GET!" His attention was drawn to a cannon as large as a cruiser, with glowing white lines starting to form on it's sides. True to it's name, when it did fire, it made a sound reminding him of one of the few horror movies he had seen in his life, a deafening scream coming from the barrel. The beam it produced looked like an exact match to the color of a white sun, lighting up the entire battlefield while it was on. Because of how much attention he was paying to the weapon itself, he came close to missing what the results were, only seeing the final stages of it. Whatever the weapon used as ammunition, it produced devastating results, as the reaper it hit fell back in a shuddering groan under the force produced by it, which made the beam hit the ground of the cave instead, causing nearly half a kilometer of stone to melt into a glowing-hot lake of material. Now that he knew what to look for, he scanned over the area, trying to find what he could. While his eyes didn't actually move, they didn't need to, as there were easily a dozen other spots similar to the one just created, most having already cooled into glass.

The other four reapers still present were apparently rather unhappy with another one of their vessels being destroyed, as each one let out an ear-piercing boom that echoed throughout the cavern, managing to temporarily pause the combat taking place across the miles of underground battlefield. The pause didn't last long though, as the one nearest to the cannon let out an all-too-familiar red beam of it's own, striking the base of the cannon. It's shields were apparently as good as a dreadnaughts, as they held for the first round, but two other reapers fired at it as well, with one nearly breaking them, and the second finishing the job, impacting the metal frame of the gigantic weapon, leading to it giving a metallic creaking noise, followed by the entire construct slowly falling forward, impacting the floor of the cave so hard the ground seemed to shake. As soon as it did, the reapers let out a second booming noise, followed by the harrowing cries of their ground forces, apparently signaling the continuation of the battle-turned-massacre. _This is…..spirits, this is warfare on an entirely different level! And he lived through this? How?!_

As if in answer to his question, the scene changed once more, showing him grappling with what at one time might've been a kind and hard working man, but now resembled something straight from a krogan's worst nightmare. The head-tentacles belonging to every Trescari were twice their natural length, ending in jagged, cruel looking spikes, and were being used to claw at any weakspots in his armor, while the arms were replaced with weapons, one an incredibly effective, fully prehensile blade, the other a close-range cannon, normally used to create gaps in defensive positions. Not knowing how to react at the visceral aspect of the struggle, as he could feel it every time one of the blades dug into his skin, he was unable to do anything, forced to take a back seat in his own mind. It didn't last much longer though, as an odd-looking shortsword was shoved under the ribcage of the creature, the tip going through the underside of it's chin, permanently killing the thing, but breaking the fragile blade in the process. He stood up from the ground, covered in dark-grey stains that he now recognized as blood, and replaced the blade with a new one from the small storage on his armor, while staring at the literal army surrounding him, the thousands of dead faces staring back. "WELL COME ON THEN! WHO'S NEXT?!"

Not a single one of them moved forward, but a line parted between them, letting him get a good look at a disturbingly normal body as it headed his direction, relatively unchanged in comparison to those that surrounded it. As Setherus was watching it move, he couldn't help but get uncomfortable as it came closer. _I have a bad feeling about this._

When it came to the edge of the circle that had formed around him, it stopped, glancing him over with brightly glowing yellow eyes. When it was finished with whatever it was doing, it spoke, the words coming out in a low, emotionless, yet somehow still menacing rumble. "Your efforts are meaningless, your people have already been gathered, cease prolonging the inevitable and be assimilated."

"And surrender to some golden-eyed corpse? Good joke, you should be a comedian!"

"I am the Harbinger of destruction, tasked with resolving the rift between organic and synthetic, and I serve a purpose your limited understanding should feel honored to reach."

He swirled some saliva around, opening his faceplate so he could spit out the blood that had started to collect inside his mouth, before speaking. "And I'm Hys'tuss fucking Prem'alon, harbinger of nothing, tasked with sending as many of your Tre'scari wannabes back into the sand where they belong, and I serve the purpose of ramming this sword of mine straight down your cold, dead, throat!"

As soon as he said the last word, he lunged for the things neck, trying to end it before it could really begin. Rather than take it's head off, as he hoped, it ducked under the blade, sweeping his legs out from under him as it did. He rolled with it, performing a textbook recovery, and slashed behind his back, knowing the next move it intended to make. Sure enough, he was rewarded with a squelching sound mixed with tearing metal, the monomolecular blade doing it's job beautifully. Not trusting it to have actually killed the thing, he rolled forward, only barely avoiding what felt like a stone shattering kick. He tried to turn around to go on the offensive, but found he couldn't, as the kick was apparently just a warmup, considering he was having trouble just dodging the following attacks, never mind retaliating. Setherus couldn't help but feel a strange sort of excitement the entire time, positive it wasn't actually coming from him, although with how mixed up his thoughts currently were, he ignored it in favor of savoring the fight, his turian blood singing every time he avoided a crushing blow.

They kept at it for close to half a minute, before Premalon managed to find the opening he was waiting for. The thing stopped attacking for just a second too long, letting him grab a surprise gift from off his belt, punching it into the gaping wound he made earlier. He wasn't fast enough to avoid the retaliatory strike, a punch that dented his armor to the point where pieces of it were going into his chest, tearing into flesh and breaking several of his ribs as he was sent flying. He landed against two of the 'spectators', knocking them down with the force of the impact, undoubtedly breaking more bones in the process. The corpses crawled away from him, content to let their master finish the job, so he tried to stand back up again, only to stumble before even getting off the ground. He laid on the cold stone, admiring the smoldering wreckage of the 4th reaper killed in the cavern, a testament to the soldiers that fought to bring it down.

While he was laying there, the thing walked up to him, staring at the blood coming out of his chest. "As I said. Your resistance proved futile, your race shall join the hundreds already part of the collective, and now you shall expire here, to have your very being used by those infinitely your greater."

He felt his lips curl into a bloody smile, remembering what he had done that resulted in where he currently was. "You forgot one thing, corpse. I left you a gift when I made that last punch."

He watched as it's glowing eyes widened, before it glanced down at it's chest wound, only to start clawing at the location where he placed it, in an ironic display of fear from the self-proclaimed harbinger of destruction. It didn't take it long to realize it's actions, stopping them once it understood how futile they were.

"This inconvenience will not be forgotten. I shall personally handle your conversion, harbinger of nothing, not even death will keep you from me. Your race shall destroy a thousand worlds as the one we leave behind, and every cycle shall know and fear your na-" It was cut off by a flash of white light, the last eraser grenade he had left going off, removing the corpse's upper body from existence, causing him to let out one last wheezing laugh, not stopping until the darkness closed in around his vision, a dead man's smile on his face. The scenery changed once more, but rather than go into another warzone, he saw nothing but a glowing blue nebula in every direction he looked.

"Well…..that was interesting." Said a feminine voice from somewhere in the clouds around him.

"And just who are you supposed to be?" He said. _Wait, I actually heard myself that time! Could it be?_

Sure enough, he moved his arms around, glad to finally have control over his body once more. As he was busy getting used to having his own three fingers again, he almost didn't see the mist parting in front of him, showing what he now recognized as a Trescari female. When his attention shifted to her, she gave him a pleasant smile, if his experience with asari was any indication at least, before speaking up.

"My name is Sern'peduey, but I'd prefer it if you called me Ocean. As you most likely already know, I'm from the long extinct race known as the Tre'scari. To sum it up, we were destroyed by the things you just saw, machines known as reapers, before our entire race was turned into one, as they do with every defeated species they encounter." _So that's what that thing meant near the end! To think it's possible to even do that to anyone, much less entire civilizations! _

A shiver went up his spine at the thought, imagining having to fight an extended war for Palaven over the course of however many years it would take them to finally clear out the last pockets of resistance, leaving his home nothing more than a pile of burning rubble. He shook his head to get rid of the still fresh images of the thousands of shambling corpses, his mind having replaced them with his family, his neighbors, his friends, and any other turian he'd met in his life. He managed to control himself enough to ask the thing he was currently most curious about. "Where's Premalon then? Why isn't he explaining this to me?"

"Well, you see, he knew you would be fine after getting shown all that. Considering how much of it he left in, and seeing as you still seem normal enough, it seems to have been the right decision. That said, he wanted to personally watch over Sederis as she experienced her own set of memories, as he wasn't sure if she could handle it."

"Wait, so she's getting shown the same thing I was?"

"Not exactly, no." She said with a strange amount of worry, making him wonder why.

* * *

**_1,002,149,009 years ago, unknown world._**

After whatever it was that caused the pain in her skull ended, she opened her eyes, only to see she was surrounded by half-a-dozen white asari. _Wait, they can't be asari. They look more like quarians with that weird looking fur. Is it even fur? Hold on a second though, WHAT THE HELL JUST HAPPENED?!_

For a reason she didn't know, she was facing the largest one of them with her white-skinned fists up. _That's not right! What the fuck is going on here?_

"Focus! You'll never learn if you're as distracted as that!"

"I seem to be doing alright, old man." Said an oddly deep voice coming from her throat. _Although that last punch certainly hurt. Wait, HOW DO I EVEN KNOW THAT?!_

"Your pride might serve you well when you're trying to impress the others in their third decade, but it won't do anything in an actual fight. Always go for the swiftest approach, never stop to gloat in the middle of combat, as it will only serve to keep you from noticing what's happening around you. Like so." her view changed from the alien in front of her to a cloudy blue sky, and she felt the air getting knocked out of her lungs as she landed on the ground "Understand now? You didn't even see that coming, did you?"

"I thought you said not to gloat!" Said the same deep voice from her body as she stood back up. _I just-this doesn't-WHAT IS ALL THIS!?_

"While you're correct in that, I said nothing about taunting your opponents. THAT you should do as much as possible, as it can distract them rather than you." said the alien with a large grin "Come on son, your mother should've just finished cooking dinner. Now if only we didn't have so many young bystanders watching us rather than helping her set the table." He said with an even larger grin, looking around at the other aliens, all of which appeared to be as young as an asari child in their teens, most of them barely more than a meter tall. They all giggled like the children they apparently were, before running off towards a large home on top of a hill, with a massive glistening white city in the background.

"You fought well, son. Keep practicing and there's a good chance that someday you'll surpass the skill I had, even in my prime."

"Like you still need to tell me at this point." The deep voice said with some oddly familiar sarcasm, causing the big one to chuckle.

After they walked up to the entrance into the house, the voice spoke up again, this time in a near yell. "Mother, we're back!"

A fairly normal looking, by her standards at least, woman came into the doorway, a happy smile on her face. Before another word could be said however, the view she was getting changed from what it was, to the streets of the white city that was in the distance, hundreds or even thousands of the white-skinned aliens running around in what seemed like panic, causing her to mentally blink. _Tre'scari. So is that what they're called? Now that I think about it, is it just me, or is this remarkably similar to what happens whenever I bond with someone?_

She kept pondering it over, only to push it off to the side when what she decided was the owner of the memories spoke.

"FATHER, THEY TOOK THE CAPITAL!" said the alien she was currently inside "The last report said they were headed here next!"

"God above! If they already took the capital they'll be here any minute! PUT MORE MEN ON THE TOWERS! THEY'RE COMING THIS WAY!" _They who? Come on, whoever you are, give me something to work with here!_

"Father, where can I help?"

"I need you to go with your mother and your siblings. She needs all the support she can get."

"But I want to fight father!"

"These aren't just some ocean born raiders, Pens'tolek. The Reapers are coming, and the future of our entire society hangs in the balance." _Reapers…why does that sound so familiar all of a sudden?_

"Go, I will join you after the attack ends." the being's apparent father said "Keep them safe for me. I've always been proud of you my little Premal'on." _Did I hear that right? So this is…and these are…goddess! No wonder he didn't tell me anything before. But what the hell is happening here that's supposed to be so damned important he couldn't have just told us about it normally?_

The memory continued, showing her exactly why Premalon couldn't have simply told her the story, as when the evacuation center was destroyed, she felt every piece of sorrow and anguish as he apparently did when it happened. It was at that moment she found out why that one word sounded so familiar, having just witnessed the destruction they could cause right in front of her, the explanation provided seemingly out of thin air. _Reapers. Ancient machines of death and galactic genocide, snuffing out the lives of trillions as if it was nothing more than a game for them. Oh goddess…..those children…they were all his…..this is…this is too much…..I can't…I just can't…._

The scene changed again, this time to a calm and empty beach just before sunset. She barely noticed it however, too busy breaking down in wet sobs after the tidal wave of grief impacted her at full force, combining with the long-buried memories of her own childhood after losing her older sister. Sometime during her mental shutdown, someone kneeled in front of her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "It's alright now, Valora. You can calm down, it's all over."

She didn't really care who it was, so she latched onto them, crying out well over a hundred years worth of pain in the crook of their neck, as they gently patted her on the back. She didn't know how long they just sat there in quiet, the steady waves in the background serving to soothe her over time. Eventually she managed to calm down enough to think, speaking in-between sniffles. "The next time *sniff* I say I want answers *sniff* just shoot my other goddess damned hand."

He lightly chuckled, patting her back one last time before looking at her face, wiping away a small tear stuck on her cheek. "Come on Valora, it's time to get up."

She couldn't help but let out a small chuckle of her own, muttering what she said next. "Where were you two centuries ago?"

"Pardon?"

"Forget it, it wasn't anything important." she sucked in a deep breath, using the sleeve of whatever it was she was currently wearing to wipe her face down "I'm a big fucking girl now, I can handle myself."

Her words only made Premalon tilt his head in obvious confusion, making her let out a proper laugh, before calming down again enough to speak.

"Sorry, just a private joke. Come on, let's go back to our shitty reality." She didn't really want to leave the peaceful location, but came to the conclusion that the faster she went back to her normal, admittedly vulgar, self, the sooner they'd both forget the event ever happened.

He raised an eyebrow at her statement, saying more once he did. "You certainly caught on quick. When did you know?"

"I'm an asari, this kind of thing tends to be fairly intuitive for us. You should've just said it was going to be like a meld, wouldn't have given you anywhere near as much trouble as I did if you had. At least I finally understand what he meant by 'cyborg squids' though." she said with a smirk, causing Premalon to shake his head in bewilderment "Speaking of your pet turian, what exactly happened to pointy?"

"While you were here, getting a good look at what started me on the path to where I am now, he was experiencing a…somewhat different memory."

"Different? How so?"

"It was one near the end of my life, my actual life that is. I figured he would appreciate it more than something like this, as it was a fairly, shall we say, action filled time."

She raised an eyebrow herself then, deciding to ask about it at a later date. "I'm ready to go whenever you are."

"We won't be leaving quite yet, there's still someone I want you to meet. They should be arriving right about…." He trailed off, making her wonder what he was going to say next, and nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard a third voice coming from behind her.

"Nice to finally meet you, Valora."

"What the-who the fuck are you?!"

"My name is Sern'peduey, but you can call me Ocean. I'm the…..better half of Premalon you could say."

"Very funny, Ocean, very funny." Said the man in question, causing the new person present to form a smile on her face. _And what a nice face it is too, a damn shame Veya would skin me alive if I went after it. *sigh* The best partner I've had over the last 50 years, and they follow the turian belief of only one at a time. The universe has a strange sense of humor. Wait, focus on the people in front of you first, fantasize about finally having a threesome later._

"So, where do I come into this particular picture?" She asked after coming back to the present.

"I'll let her do the explaining, she likes to talk so much anyway." Said Premalon, to which Ocean replied by giving him a pout, before actually speaking up.

"To sum everything up, as you already know, we're from the long extinct race known as the Tre'scari. Our entire race was destroyed by what you saw, machines known as reapers…"

* * *

**And that's #10! Would've put this out sooner, but I may or may not have done nothing but play an old favorite of mine on the xbox for the first two days after posting the last chapter, so yeah…..eheh, oops.**

**Aannnnyyywaaayy, back to the story. I debated what this chapter was going to cover for quite a bit, eventually deciding I haven't really given Premalon's past much time in the spotlight. Considering how he's supposed to be a former resistance leader during his fight against the reapers, I came to the conclusion he needed some fleshing out, so this is the result of that goal. It's actually rather amazing how much material can come from the life of a single person really, I could write an entire story about Premalon's war against the reapers, and the Setherus memory could've been the final chapter. The whole thing would've ended in a short paragraph talking about how the reaper made from his people fell in battle over the planet Jartar, only to be discovered eons later by the Citadel races with the rest being history….well crap, now I REALLY want to start work on writing it. Maybe once this story wraps up, I can try my hand at it, but until then, I'll just have to keep it in mind.**

**The next chapter will be out in a week or less, and will have us either coming to the Citadel, or hinting at it if the chapter gets too long.**

**As always, it was a pleasure writing this out, bringing excitement to my life and hopefully yours as well. I hope you enjoyed and I'll see you next time!**


	11. Chapter 11

*****The Broken Reaper*****

**Chapter 11: Awakening: Two Reapers, a Soldier, and a Mercenary walk into a bar**

* * *

**AN: Well I just discovered I done fricked up with the ke'sed thing from chapter 8. Turns out that's actually what the newborn of a critter called a gorach is, with said critter being what I should've put down instead. Hehe, oops. Looks like I have some editing to do…**

**Well anyway, time for reviews.**

**Prometheus-777: Believe me, that's anything but the only reference I've put in here. Remember the 'that was a joke' line back in chapter 3? EDI reference. Couldn't help it at the time. Even my name is a reference to what I personally think was, and still is the best sci-fi movie Tom Cruise has ever made (Edge of Tomorrow, strongly suggest you watch it if you haven't already), so of course I'm going to drop an obscure reference in my story every now and then. That particular one was the most obvious I've made so far, but far from the first, and don't expect it to be the last. If you want to know about the Destiny Ascension, read the line all the way back in chapter 1 from the quartermaster about the asari making a new super-ship for the answer, also added in a small section in the news clip here to help further explain. Oh and before I forget, here's my response to that "important question" you had: an asari's gotta do what an asari's gotta do, and seeing as how her personality demands it, she'll have far more than just her current relationship throughout the fics running time. If there are any innuendos, I can guarantee most of them are accidental…..most of them. Small spoiler: you gave me the idea for a certain portion of this chapter with the review you made on chapter 9. You'll know what when you come across it, believe me.**

**Tom712: I guess only time will tell if I can actually do it or not. Just figured I'd thank you though. For what you ask? After the last chapter, I checked out your profile. You've managed to amass quite a lot of fun stories/inspirational material in your favorites, so for that I'll say it again: thanks for the unintentional help and entertainment. It was completely unexpected, never mind I doubt you meant for it to happen, so I'm more than happy that it did.**

**Guest: While it's obvious you didn't read past the prologue, so I doubt you'll ever know I made this response, I'm going to anyway, seeing as it would be 'lazy' of me not to respond to someone too 'lazy' to actually go farther than the AN in the very first chapter before saying how terrible it is. If you don't like the ACTUAL story, fine, but at least know what you're talking about before you make a review saying how this is 'just the same story all over again with one extra character'.**

**Wow, my first completely negative review…this is finally popular enough for it to have flames! YES! Is it weird I think that's a good thing? I won't delete it or anything like that, seeing as it was simply an uninformed opinion, the guy even admitted to having not read farther than the AN for the prologue. For my actual readers, I'll say this: I tried to be as vague as possible regarding what events took place up to that point in the timeline. The first contact war happened, but I didn't say what really happened in it, Anderson is a Spectre candidate, but we don't know anything about him aside from that, and the batarians are still batarians, so I have to wonder what made him think he could judge the entire story by a few paragraphs. Maybe I wasn't clear enough regarding where it would actually start? Now that I think about it, I should probably add in a note at the top of the prologue's AN saying where the story truly begins, just to keep this from repeating. Don't want to confuse new readers about something as important as that, now do we?**

**Anyyywaayyyy, we're going to have a few relatively small time skips take place in this chapter, with some events happening off-screen because of it. This isn't the one mentioned previously, they're just intended to speed up the story, seeing as the previous five chapters have all taken place in a single day in-universe.**

**Small note: IMV means Independent Merchant Vessel while HNV is Hierarchy Naval Vessel (there's probably an official abbreviation for this, I just don't know it).**

* * *

**Three days later, aboard Retribution in dark space.**

"Is that really the best you can do? What, ancient magical squid powers not helping here?" She said sarcastically.

"Oh shut up. I'm starting to regret replacing your hand." He responded.

"Hey, it's only fair, considering you were the reason I lost it in the first place."

"Can we get back to training? Knowing how to use biotic powers would be handy."

"Oh by the fucking goddess, don't tell me now you're going to be making those terrible hand puns!" She said in exasperation, to which he responded by giving what was apparently supposed to be a turian smirk, pulling his new set of mandibles back. She squeezed the bridge of her nose with her recently made left hand, letting out a deep sigh before saying more. "I'm never going to hear the end of it, am I?"

"Considering we both have perfect memory, I'm afraid not. It can't be that bad though, right? I mean, we did give a helping hand in making sure that broker didn't kill you, even after you attacked the ship we were on, so I'm sure you can handle it." Said Ocean in a completely deadpan voice, causing him to snicker, while the actual asari present groaned in displeasure.

After Valora and Setherus received the memories, they were individually given a brief explanation as to what it was they actually saw, followed by a far longer one they were given at the same time, explaining the various things the reapers could do with their technology, starting with indoctrination, and how it was happening to them just by being around him. All things considered, they took it surprisingly well, but he didn't doubt they had concerns about being changed by it, Setherus in particular seemed unsettled by the implications. He and Ocean both did what they could to alleviate said concerns, but in the end, only time would tell if it worked. Several hours later, they finally finished, having also told them about how both he and Ocean were going to have a different body for use on places like the Citadel, or in Ocean's case, anywhere in general. Overall, the imagery of their faces during that time would entertain him for years to come, capturing their complete and utter shock perfectly, much to the annoyance of the aliens in question. After they finished, he offered to use the onboard equipment to grow a new hand for Valora, seeing as there were a surprising number of uses for the nanites, even including a sort of cloning method where they copy the original body part to the point of being a near perfect match. She gladly accepted, getting it attached before the day ended, much to her 'goddess damned satisfaction' in her words. He also managed to get in contact with Vadrax later that day, working out an altered version of the deal without too much trouble, getting Valora to show off her newly attached limb as proof of what he was offering, avoiding anything about reapers and their nanites of course. And so, for the past three days, they had all been preparing for the planned visit to the lauded 'center of the civilized galaxy'. The previous day, Ocean had finally completed overseeing the experiments, the results of which were so successful that he planned to have them operate the cruiser once the engines were eventually reinstalled, so she came back to Retribution as soon as she could. After that, he decided on testing his quite literal new set of skin, getting used to the, for him at least, strange body. When Ocean mentioned how she had yet to actually test her biotics beyond lifting a crate or two with them, which made him realize he had yet to do so as well, it lead to the two of them asking the only natural biotic they had around for help.

His thoughts were interrupted when said person eventually spoke up, sounding fairly annoyed.

"Funny coming from someone that looks as good as you do in and out of whoever that poor bitch was, yet even after several hours can only barely form a push or pull, never mind a warp or stasis. I thought you said you used them before now!" He narrowed his eyes while she spoke, an odd possessive feeling rising up.

Ocean looked flustered at her words, before answering her in a low voice. "I only tested them on an empty cargo crate, and that was after I read numerous articles about how to do it in the first place."

"How big was the crate? As large as an elcor?" Ocean shook her head "A krogan?" another shake "Was it at least large enough to fit a batarian or asari?" yet another shake "Well then how fucking big was it?!" She asked with impatience.

"Roughly the size of a volus, maybe slightly bigger, and I only did it twice." Muttered Ocean, causing the unusual feeling to evaporate completely, before he decided to have a private conversation with her using their altered passage of time. _You told me you tested it out multiple times, so what's with all this crap?!_

_I may have embellished it somewhat. Now that I mention it, the first time was more an accident than anything else. _She answered, sounding embarrassed even though they weren't actually speaking.

_Occeeeaaannnn. _He said with no small amount of annoyance, causing her physical form to wince for a tenth of a second, unnoticed by the third person in the room with them. He took a moment to calm himself, half a second passing in reality. _*sigh* Just tell me beforehand next time, we still have training to do._

He ended their conversation, letting time go back to normal, as Valora sucked in a frustrated breath. "Son of a…..fine, guess we'll start with the basics then. Concentrate on the palm of your hand, focus on nothing else. Once you do, try forming a push, just like the last few times, but rather than let it out, I want you to hold it there for as long as you can."

They both followed the instructions, going through the motions of making the small glowing orb in their hands. Just like before, he felt an odd tingling sensation coming from the base of his skull, but rather than release the pent up energy, he tried to simply keep it going instead, Ocean doing the same. They were doing it right if he had to guess, proven by what their 'teacher' said next. "Alright, good job! Now we'll practice actually hitting something with it. I'll make a singularity downrange, seeing as mine aren't very strong compared to someone that prefers them, but it'll work for what we're about to do."

Sure enough, she outstretched her right arm, wreathed in biotic blue, and formed the miniature black hole some 20 meters away from them, speaking again once she did. "There's your target. If you hit it, you'll create a biotic explosion, the abilities combining to detonate like a grenade. Well, go ahead, it's all yours."

He stared at the singularity, deciding to be the first one to try for it. He extended his own arm, releasing the push, which changed the tingling sensation to that of a slight itch. Knowing what it really was, he 'scratched' the itch in the way Valora told them to, changing the direction the orb was headed. It still managed to miss, but he came within a meter of the intended target, surprising himself a little. "See, a little focus goes a long way with biotics! Your turn, nightlight."

He blinked in confusion at the name, Ocean asking the question for him. "Nightlight? What in the depths is that supposed to mean?"

"Have you looked in a mirror lately?" Ocean slowly shook her head, most likely confused by the question, making Valora briefly sigh. "Your eyes, they glow in the dark. His too now that I think about it, but nowhere near as brightly as yours."

Ocean blinked several times, and he took a closer look at her irises, finding out that they did indeed shine with an unnatural light. He decided to ask her something, once more using their 'private line'. _Huh, they do glow. What about mine?_

She turned her head to examine his own eyes, moving closer to get a better look, responding several seconds later. _Yours too, but I can only tell because the rest of the eye is black. Glowing deep blue eyes surrounded by total darkness…almost poetic in a way. What color are mine?_

_Sapphire blue. So they're the same color as our originals, minus the glowing part of course. Think it's a coincidence, or simply dependent on who's using the body?_

_That second one if I had to guess. Still, it seems strange we didn't notice it before._

_I suppose that's because we had other things to focus on._

_True enough. They do look rather nice though._

_Likewise. They remind me of-_

As they weren't talking at their normal speed, their entire conversation took place over the span of half a minute, Valora glancing between them repeatedly the entire time, eventually deciding to interrupt. "Oh for the love of Athame! You've been staring at each other for long enough, why don't you just tear your clothes off and fuck already!"

They both snapped their heads to her, eyes wide and mouths slightly open in shock, not even knowing how to respond. Fortunately for them, they didn't need to, as Setherus walked through the door not even ten seconds later, face glued to his omni-tool.

"Sorry to interrupt, but I just came across a news report I think you should take a look…at…" He cut himself off as he tilted his head up, noticing their expressions and how close they were to each other, before turning around and trying to walk away without another word. The action served to snap his attention back to reality, yelling out to the turian before he could actually leave.

"GET BACK IN HERE, YOU FLIGHTLESS, OVERGROWN BIRD!"

Ocean came out of it as well once he said it, looking anywhere except in his direction, while Valora let out a long laugh, enjoying the scene in it's entirety. Setherus turned around again, raising one of his eye-plates and glancing over the two of them with a knowing look. He started walking towards them once more, smirking the entire time. _Damn aliens and their damn lack of good timing._

_Agreed. _Said Ocean, before ending the connection on her end, leaving him in mental silence once more.

"So, what's this important news supposed to be?" He asked with some harshness in his voice.

"I can come back later if you want me-" he let out a low growl using his new body's subharmonics, cutting the young man off "-or not. Here, this is what I was talking about."

He held up his arm to show a clip of a salarian reporter, a strange, stone-grey city in the background, with the audio turned off and what he was saying translated into turian lettering at the bottom of the screen. "Let's see if we can get this on something bigger. Orchestra, get the signal from this news station and project it on the wall behind us."

"Affirmative, Premalon." It's deep, echoing voice replied.

"I still don't get why you gave the thing two different names." Said Valora, having calmed down from her bout of laughter.

"One is the name for the ship itself, as well as the only name any unknown parties will learn if it comes up, the other is for when any of us are actually on the ship. It's not that strange, really."

"If you say so."

They were silent for another four seconds, before an image started projecting itself over the nearby wall, being the exact same one still on Setherus' omni-tool._ "-archy has informed the press that another vessel has gone missing in the Hades Gamma cluster, this time a cruiser that was being used to search for the missing frigate by name of the 'Waiting Predator'. Officials still haven't uncovered the truth behind this mystery, stating in a press briefing that 'The Hierarchy will put every effort into finding both ships, as well as the over 300 crew on the two vessels'. As it stands, the fleet in Hades Gamma has grown to include over a dozen cruisers, an unknown amount of frigates, and at least one dreadnaught, all searching for the lost ships, making it one of, if not the largest search-and-rescue operation in galactic history. While there have been unconfirmed reports of crewman belonging to the Predator having been found, the representative refused to comment. My name is Idok Yedril, live from Palaven. Back to you, Zeneenya."_

The image changed, now showing an asari in front of what he assumed was the channel's logo, some bright-red lettering in multiple languages._ "Thanks for the update, Idok. Coming up next: the batarian heavy cruiser Pillar's Disciple has yet to be found, and the Hegemony ambassador is now saying it also went missing in the Hades Gamma cluster. Were they all destroyed in a pirate attack? Did they engage each other in battle for some unknown reason? Is this cluster cursed by the Goddess herself? Well, an image on the extranet is believed to be the answer by an anonymous source claiming to be from the Special Tasks Group, showing a vessel that could only be described as a 'super-dreadnaught'."_ the image she mentioned was shown, a distant and fuzzy picture of Retribution laying on it's underside back on Jartar _"Is this image faked, or could it actually be true? After this commercial break is over, we'll have an interview with esteemed asari Matriarch, Unaravi Merequa, former Councilor and author of the book 'The Ever Changing Waters of Life', as well as famous retired turian General, Luvias Genadas, writer and director of the documentary vid series 'Battles of the Rebellions, and the Heroes that won them', to talk about these recent events and how they could affect the rumored 'Ascension Project' underway in the Asari Republics. I'm Zeneenya Edaix, and you're watching Citadel News Network; the most trusted and reliable name in known space."_

As soon as the asari finished speaking, Valora scoffed for some reason, rolling her eyes while she did. "Trusted and reliable my ass, those morons honestly believe the Hegemony spreads nothing but peace and love wherever they go."

"When was this first broadcast?" He asked Setherus, deciding to find out about what she meant later.

"It was live the second I found it. That batarian ship wouldn't happen to be the same Disciple where you were conducting those indoctrination tests, would it?"

He rubbed the back of his neck before he replied, almost embarrassed at the entire thing. "Yeah, fairly certain it is. They showed up at Jartar a day after we left it, even threatened to start shooting at Retribution if they didn't get a response. No real choice about what happened after that."

Setherus let out a long sigh, saying more after he did. "Well, that screws up any possibility of only the Hierarchy looking for us. I have a feeling it won't be long before every race on the Citadel starts combing over the cluster. Any ideas?"

"Just one, but I doubt it'll be easy. Ocean, did the Disciple have any records indicating what the previous captain did with that 'smuggling frigate'?"

"It did, yes, they left it in the same system as the abandoned station in fact. Why? Did you want it for something?"

"You could say that. How much of the previous crew were left?"

Her eyes widened in realization, but she managed to continue without skipping a beat. "Only half-a-dozen of them died during the events that lead to us getting the cruiser. A turian, four salarians, and the ship's captain, as in me. You want to have them moved back to their old vessel? What for? And what about the Disciple's remaining crew?"

"We can move them onto Retribution for the time being. I have a plan in mind, and we'll have to sacrifice the Disciple for it to work, but it's going to require you to do something most likely illegal involving breaking into the Hierarchy's servers and getting as much information about the former owner of this body as possible. Think you can manage that?"

A devious smile formed on her lips, giving him an answer even without what she said next. "Please, I was MEANT for breaking into places I shouldn't! Give me a couple hours, you'll have that info long before the crew arrive at the frigate."

"Good. As for you two, get used to working together for the next couple weeks. If this works out, we'll all be on the Citadel soon enough, and you can both finally have that bar trip I know you've been talking about." He said, causing an odd mix of excitement and depression to come over the two of them.

"If this blows up in our face, I'm blaming you." Said Setherus, in what seemed to only partially be a joke.

"Oh come on, just think of the stories you'll be able to tell your sister once you get back home!" He replied, in an attempt to cheer the turian up. It didn't really seem to work, to no one's surprise, but he was too busy plotting out what he needed to do next to pay it much attention.

_Might be a good idea to clean out that outpost while we're in the system, wouldn't want someone to come across the evidence of what happened there. So now all I have to do is get Setherus to teach me everything he knows about what a turian Blackwatch member is supposed to sound like, get the right codes to prove who I am, convince the ships guarding the relay that I should be allowed to use it to travel to the Widow system, and do all this before any of the other races decide to send their own navies to 'help out'. Simple, right?_

* * *

_**Twelve hours later, aboard command deck of Hierarchy dreadnaught HNV Spirit of Endurance, Antaeus system.**_

_"Yes! Yes! Oh goddess, YES! Use those perfect, massive tentacles until we embrace eternity!"_

_"This One believes you are nearly enkindled, This One will increase it's speed."_

"ENSIGN! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU WATCHING!?" Yelled out the ship's Executive Officer, stalking over to him.

_Shit! Power button, where's the spirits cursed power button! Ah-HAH! FOUND IT!_

He managed to turn off his omni-tool, just in time to look up at the now very angry face of his superior.

"Is something wrong, Sir?" He asked in what he hoped was confusion.

"Yes, there's something damn wrong! You're watching crap like that when you're supposed to be doing your job! If I catch you doing it again, you'll be scrubbing out the sewage recycling systems for the rest of the year!"

He winced when he heard it, knowing how unpleasant such a job would be on a ship with over a thousand crew. Before he could respond, the technician on sensors spoke up. "Sir, a civilian frigate just arrived in system, no ship-grade weapons detected on it."

The XO looked at the other man, making him breathe a sigh of relief now that he was no longer the subject of attention. "What's the IFF read as?"

"The IMV Thessian Countryside, registered as a privately owned trading frigate belonging to an asari matron by the name of Lin'phi Atrella. Your orders?"

The XO looked back to him, a sadistic smile on his face. "I think the Ensign here can handle it, seeing as he's in charge of communications. In fact, I think he'll be able to handle the next dozen ships at the very least, even if it takes him into the next shift."

He couldn't help but cringe once the words registered, considering he was less than an hour away from ending his rotation on the bridge. Being a proper turian though, he did what he was supposed to upon receiving orders. "Will do Sir, establishing connection with them now."

He followed through on his words, broadcasting over the general channel to the frigate. "Independent Merchant Vessel Thessian Countryside, this is the Hierarchy Naval Vessel Spirit of Endurance. As this cluster is suspected of having severe pirate activity at this time, we are required to perform a thorough search of your cargo bay in accordance to Council mandate 2155-746. An inspection team will be sent to perform the necessary procedures, and will determine if you'll be allowed through. Please acknowledge."

There was silence on the other end for several seconds, eventually being broken by what sounded like a fellow turian._ "Spirit of Endurance, this is Blackwatch Operative 4390. Requesting this conversation be switched to a secure channel."_

He couldn't help but gawk at the answer, having expected a simple message about complying with the order, but managed to recover quickly, changing it to a military frequency. After doing so, he remembered the next part of the procedure for a case such as this, asking the standard questions for any possible Blackwatch communication. "Channel secured, send ID code now."

_"0792467."_

He entered them in, waiting for the necessary authorizations to be given for the information. It didn't take long, the screen lighting up a bright green as it registered the code being accurate, letting him ask the follow-up question. "Code is good. Current pass-phrase?"

_"A strong army wins the battle, but strong leadership wins the war."_

He entered it in again, the phrase being accepted once he did, causing him to relax slightly now that the hard part was over. "ID confirmed, transferring you to the onboard intelligence officer."

There wasn't a response, the Operative apparently content to wait. He switched them over to the resident spook, an older female he never learned the name of (not that he believed she'd tell him), glad the whole ordeal was over with. _Well, at least I'll finally have a story to tell the family when I write home next week. Just hope I never have to do anything like that again._

He went back to his work, checking over the comm logs for any unauthorized use, getting back into a normal routine. Around two minutes later, the frigate moved to the relay, disappearing in an instant once it was close enough.

_And just like that, I have one less headache to worry about. Now where was I before all this started? Ah yes, 'This asari maiden finally gets her perfect bondmate'. Nothing like good entertainment to pass the time._

* * *

_**Four hours later, aboard IMV Thessian Countryside, nearing final relay jump to Serpent Nebula.**_

They were all lounging in the closest thing to luxury quarters on the ship, doing whatever they could to pass the time. Sadly for him, this also meant engaging in conversation.

"I still can't believe they let us go so easily!" Said Valora, for what he guessed was the 18th time, causing him to put his face in his hand.

"Why are you still so surprised? They got all the right codes, that intel officer was more than happy to let us through once we gave her the location of the Disciple, which considering it's current lack of engines wasn't much of a loss, and now we're on our way to the Citadel just like we planned. It's really not all that strange in the grand scheme of things." Replied Premalon.

"I get all that, but how the hell did you know it'd work?!"

Rather than Premalon, Ocean spoke up. "Because I came across sealed orders while I was digging around in their servers, telling the operatives in the region to find the Disciple before anyone else could, and hinting at an increase in Citizenship tier for the one that did. Even managed to get all the information needed for Hystuss to essentially become who his face is supposed to be. Nothing against your government Setherus, but they have absolutely garbage cyber security."

"I don't think they intended it to defend against an impossibly ancient, semi-living, super AI with a sense of humor." He said in a straight voice while raising a brow-plate, to which she responded simply by shrugging.

"Well anyway, back on track. You both remember who the two of us are while on the Citadel, right?" Asked Premalon in a no-nonsense tone, making him unconsciously straighten his posture.

"I do. You're Primus Meldos, an Army Captain and member of Blackwatch that we came across while investigating the recon outpost, with you doing the same thing even though you're currently off-duty. And you're Cerhn Perdweigh, an asari freelancer and old friend of Primus that he brought with due to having a longstanding contract. I have to say, I'm surprised you already setup the necessary records to prove you exist. What about a bank account? It would be fairly suspicious for someone in 'your' line of work not to have one."

Ocean grinned, a sure sign he was about to be impressed by something, before speaking. "That was one of the first things I did once it became obvious I needed some sort of ID. Opening one up was easy enough, even changing the records to show that it's existed for years now was child's play, and all I had to do to fill it was skim off the top of the constantly flowing tax revenue through Citadel space. I currently have several hundred thousand due to my 'long career' as a mercenary, while 'Primus' here only has a little over ten thousand saved up." Premalon narrowed his eyes at her, causing her grin to grow in size "Hey, it's not my fault the Hierarchy doesn't pay all that much! Besides, I couldn't find whatever off-the-record accounts he might've had. You'll just have to be nice and ask to borrow from me whenever you want something too expensive. Oh, and speaking of pay, as you're in the system, you have a salary coming in every week."

"How much?" He asked, his eyes still narrowed.

"A whopping 950 credits! Oh, that reminds me, I just earned another 400 on the stock market for the past hour. Looks like my profit margin is starting to come down, what a shame." She said with an obviously fake tone of sadness, causing the two women present to snicker.

"What do you find so funny, handless?" He asked.

"First off, I'm technically not anymore. Second off, it's funny because I know exactly what she means, I have a volus stock broker that earns me around 3,000 a day. One nice thing about 'our' line of work: it may be hazardous at times, but goddess does it pay well. How much do you get, pointy?" She asked with a smirk.

He didn't immediately answer, knowing exactly what the response was going to be._ If I do answer, I'll be the poorest one here. If I don't answer, one of the squids will just find out on the extranet. *sigh* Why did I have to decide on the navy?_

"400 a week." He muttered.

"I'm sorry, what was that? I couldn't hear you over the sound of me counting my money." She said in a teasing voice.

"Spirits dammit, I earn 400 a week, alright!" He nearly yelled out. When he did, each of them, including Premalon, winced at the answer. "Oh come on, it's not that bad!"

"Don't worry Setherus, I'll let you use my account if you need to go shopping." Said Ocean in what she apparently believed was a sympathetic voice, only managing to make him feel worse. Rather than continue the conversation, they were interrupted by one of the turian crew coming into the room, much to his relief.

"Sir's, Ma'am's, we're a minute out from the relay."

"Is everything prepared for when we get there?" Asked Premalon.

"Yes Sir, we've gotten everything ready and will begin hiring as soon as we arrive." The man replied in the normal turian way, meaning it was rigid and military from start to finish.

"Good. If all goes well, we should be leaving in less than a week. If not….well, if not, continue with the secondary plan."

"Of course, Sir!" He said while saluting, practically marching out afterward.

Premalon sighed, shaking his head as he did. "Guess I'll have to fix that later."

"Ok, I have to ask; just what in the spirits was that about?!"

"Hmm? Ah, right, you never got shown the results of those tests. To put it simply: every crewman on this ship thinks of the four of us as their complete and total superiors, due to the indoctrination. We can order them to do things they normally wouldn't even think of, and they'll follow said order without question. As for the way he acted, it's because Ocean, or as they know her, Cerhn Perdweigh, told them we were equal in authority to her, meaning they give us the same treatment as she does. Depending on how the meeting with your Councilor goes, I intend to grow the number of those affected rather quickly, seeing as the first 'batch' turned out so well. Although, I suppose he's now my Councilor too." He finished with a contemplative look on his face, his now turian eyes showing he was anywhere but the present.

_Spirits! He wants to have his own private army! What would he even use it for? Conquering a planet? Fighting a war? Is he just doing it because he's bored!? _The more he thought on it, however, the more it seemed like a good idea. _Then again, if we're going after this 'broker in the shadows', we'll need far more than just the four of us to track them down, never mind preparing for the actual enemy. Why would it depend on how the meeting ends though?_

He was deep in his own thoughts as they went through the relay, not even noticing the slight shaking after being accelerated to thousands of times the speed of light. As they came out the other side, the ship VI spoke, a fairly standard asari voice being used, informing them of their arrival. "Attention please: we are approaching the Citadel. Estimated time until docking: three minutes, twenty-nine seconds."

As there wasn't anything else that needed to be said, they all got up and walked out of the room, headed to the airlock. As they went, every crewman they passed by gave them either a salute, a deep nod of respect, or yelled out various versions of 'Sir!'. Overall, it left him feeling mildly impressed, before eventually arriving at their destination. _Guess he wasn't kidding with all that! Well, I suppose I can't really complain too much. I wonder if this is what being a General or Admiral feels like? Wait a second…how could I have missed that?!_

"Uh, 'Primus', your armor?"

"What about my-" He cut himself off, looking over the purple plating that covered him from the neck down, cursing under his breath once he finished. "I'll make a trip to the ship's storage for a different set. 'Cerhn', you too."

"But I don't want to change into something else!" She attempted to plead with him, only to stop talking for several seconds, a distant look in her eyes. "Fiinnneeee! But I'm going to buy a new set of armor for each of us while we're here. May as well use some of that money building up in the bank, am I right?"

"Just make sure it's nothing too ridiculous or expensive. We still need to get higher quality weapons, as well as upgrades for both, so try not to blow it all just so you can look good." Said Premalon in a stern voice, to which she replied in a very mature and adult-like manner…by sticking her tongue out at him. He apparently didn't want to dignify it with a response, walking back into the ship, with her following close behind.

"If it's the last thing I do, I'll make sure those two hookup with each other." Said Sederis in a near whisper, making him look at her in surprise.

"Are you sure that's a good idea? I mean look at the people around us; no telling if they might decide we need to turn out that way if it backfires on you." He replied, also in a near whisper.

"Nah, they wouldn't do that. Remember what you told me before we went into those pods?"

As he did indeed, he didn't answer, causing her to speak up, a schemers smile on her face. "Just trust me on this, setting people up together is a hobby of mine. I even managed to do it for the captain of my own ship!"

"Suuurreeee you did." He said, not believing a word of it.

She narrowed her eyes upon hearing his reply, and looked like she wanted to say more, only for them to end the conversation early as they heard someone nearly yelling 'Sir!' down the hall. Sure enough, Premalon came walking back in their direction, wearing a common low-end set of armor, Ocean behind him in the asari equivalent, looking like she smelled something foul.

"Find what you wanted?" He asked.

"Yes." "No." Were their immediate and simultaneous replies, causing him to smirk.

"Well, let's get going then! The sooner we find a place that serves alcohol, the better!" Said Sederis in a far too cheery voice, no doubt imagining pouring entire bottles down her throat.

"Only as long as they have some good Palaven brandy in stock." He added, in an attempt to at least make sure he wasn't left out.

"I suppose we can make a small detour for a little while, might even let us see some of the Citadel before getting down to business." commented Premalon, making Sederis look at him like he just gave her a present that she'd wanted for years "But no getting drunk and starting a fight, or anything like that! I want to avoid having to bail either of you two out of lockup while we're here."

While she deflated somewhat after he added in the condition, it didn't stop her for long, as she spoke up barely a second later, still far more excited than she should be. "Well, what are we waiting for? There's booze to drink, dancing to be done, and people to flirt with! I haven't been on the Citadel in close to thirty years, so let's stop wasting time already!"

He rolled his eyes, an amused grin on his face, while Premalon merely shook his head, going into the airlock now that they were all together again. It went through the standard decon cycle, opening several seconds later, giving them all a good look at the nearby asari receptionist for the docking area. The group walked up to her desk, and she gave them a pleasant smile when she noticed them approaching. "Welcome to the Citadel, how may I help you?"

Premalon took that as his cue to speak, sounding like he was trying to be as professional as possible. "Is it possible to register a new omni-tool under my name? I've been away on business and needed to replace my old one."

"Of course Sir, I can do that right now if you want. I'll need your name and occupation to do so, however."

"Captain Primus Meldos, Hierarchy Army."

"One moment, please." she looked back down at her screen, occupied with the task at hand "Here we are. The final step is answering your security question. 'What would you do without me?' It should be a name according to your settings. If you could enter it in on the provided screen?" She said, the screen appearing in front of Premalon. For some reason, one of his eyes began to twitch, while Ocean looked like she was busy holding in laughter, much to the confusion of the three other people present. He eventually did enter it in, an electronic 'ping' going off, having apparently been the right one.

"Thank you. All you need to do now is use your current omni-tool to accept the verification message it should have just received." As soon as she finished speaking, Premalon looked down at his wrist, turning on his 'tool. _So he decided to make his dark grey? Never understood why some people do that, it's not like changing the color makes an omni-tool work differently. Personal preference I suppose._

He must've accepted it, as the receptionist looked down at her screen again, giving him a slight nod soon after she did. "That was the final step in registration. Did you have anything else you wanted to ask me?"

"Yes actually, do you know a good multi-species bar and nightclub in the area?"

She glanced over them, a knowing look in her eyes, even though her smile had yet to change throughout the entire conversation. "I happen to know an excellent one near the Presidium by the name of 'A Huntress Never Tells', I go there regularly myself, the owner is an old friend of mine. Just be sure to watch out for her bouncer; he's a krogan that fought in the rebellions and rachni wars, so I wouldn't suggest causing any trouble."

"Don't worry, we won't." Said Premalon, giving a stern look at him and Sederis, walking away from the receptionist.

As he didn't want to ask anything himself, he followed, Sederis and Ocean doing the same. Once they were far enough away not to be heard, he spoke up, asking a question that just came to mind. "So, do you know where that club is? I'd rather avoid wandering around trying to find it."

Premalon simply smiled, at least if he had to guess, apparently still getting used to doing so in a different way, while Ocean had a smug look on her face, speaking for him. "Don't worry, we both got an up-to-date map as soon as we arrived. It's a five minute walk from here, and takes us by several weapons and armor dealerships."

"I thought we were getting drinks first?"

Rather than Ocean, Premalon replied. "We still are, this is just a way for the two of us to decide on where to shop. After we arrive at the bar, you and Valora will be left there, while we buy whatever we need from any stores along the way to the Presidium; as the final destination is wherever the Councilor is currently at."

Sederis spoke up, sounding like she was confused. "So you don't want us to come with for that? Why not?"

"Well, to put it bluntly: you're a known mercenary, possibly a wanted one if they know who attacked the Predator, which, considering those rumors mentioned on the news about some of the crew being found, means there's a chance they do. As for you, Setherus, you would be dragged off to an interrogation room to have everything you learned about me shared, willingly or not, hence why until the meeting ends one way or the other, you two are going to stay away from anything having to do with this. That reminds me. Ocean? You made them fake ID's, right?"

"I did indeed. Setherus, from now until whenever this all gets solved, your name is Sethalis Kalenus. Valora, your name is Valesra S'Leris. You each have an account linked to your omni-tool's with 2,000 credits in them, for when you want to buy drinks or anything else, so try not to go overboard."

"Challenge accepted!" Said Sederis, reminding him of her earlier cheerful tones. He couldn't help but let out a light chuckle, and even Premalon looked amused by it, while Ocean narrowed her eyes, evidently trying to convince the actual asari present to rethink her words. It didn't work, said asari ignoring her entirely, happily humming a popular drinking song found on the extranet.

After that, they walked on in relative silence, occasionally stopping to look at a store as they went. It took them just under seven minutes before they arrived at the bar, a heavily scarred krogan standing outside the doors, eyeing them up as they approached. _This has to be that krogan bouncer she mentioned. Spirits! With all those acid burns and claw marks, you wouldn't even have to know him to know he fought the rachni! What, did he take on an entire hive by himself?_

"Is this the Huntress Never Tells?" Premalon asked the krogan, making it's head move his direction.

"You're at the right place. All of you going in?"

"Yup. Why do you ask?" Said Ocean in response, earning a stare.

"Last group of aliens that looked like you four do caused trouble. Started smashing up the place. I had to smash them up in return. Understand?" It said in a low rumble, trying and succeeding to sound intimidating. Proving that she was at least partially insane, Sederis spoke up in a casual voice, not even caring about the threat made.

"That's nice and all, but what's the strongest drink you have here?"

The first response she got was a glare from one of his eyes, followed by a huge smile breaking out on it's face, surprising him to say the least, but nowhere near as much as what it said next. "HAH! Finally, someone with a quad! Try the batarian ale. It's not as strong as ryncol, but it's as close to it that any non-krogan can handle."

"Thanks, I'll be sure to check it out!" She said, once again sounding similar to the practically gleeful voice she had when they talked about drinking earlier. After she did, no one had any time to say anything else, as she went into the bar, humming that song again. Premalon and Ocean simply looked at each other, the latter shrugging their shoulders, before they both followed her inside, leaving him staring at a particularly nasty looking acid burn on the krogan's face.

"Heh, you noticed that? Got it when I went into a rachni nest back in 280, managed to go all the way to the queen chambers in fact. Caught the queen without any of her escorts, even stomped her to death before any of the bugs could stop me, but not before the bitch gave me this little present. Maybe if you buy me a bottle of ryncol, I'll tell you the full story. Those were some fun days…." He said with a distant look in his eyes, leaving Setherus feeling completely bewildered, deciding to go inside rather than continue dealing with the crazy alien reminiscing about nearly being killed in a galaxy spanning war.

_Great, just great! Am I the only sane person here?! *sigh* Well at least I can finally get something to help calm me down._

He went up to the bar proper, noticing the other three members of his group already with drinks at a nearby table, making the asari bartender speak up once he sat in one of the stools. "What can I get you, hon?"

"That depends. What do you have in stock that guarantees I won't remember what happens for the rest of the day?"

Her first response was a raised eyebrow, followed by a smirk, before she actually replied. "That would be a Cipritine Sunrise, one of the more popular turian drinks. That sound good to you?"

"Sure, sure, just keep 'em coming ." He said, not even really caring.

"Whatever you say, kid. It's your liver after all." She went to a dispenser to fill up a glass, a greenish-brown liquid pouring into it, moving back to him when it was done. He picked it up, dropping the contents back without a second thought, the burning concoction serving to calm him down from several days worth of activity, only to see her filling up another shot already. _About damn time someone knows exactly what I need! Spirits, that was strong though! I should probably stop after just a few more drinks…._

* * *

**And that's chapter 11. It was surprisingly hard to write this chapter for some reason, I just couldn't push myself to do so. From start to finish, this took close to five days to write, which honestly upsets me considering my normal speed.**

**Well anyway, I won't put much down here, as the beginning notes were longer than they should have been thanks to that guest review. Expect the next chapter to be out soon, and here's hoping I won't have as much difficulty working on it as I did this one.**

**Thanks for reading, I hope you all enjoyed and I'll see you next time!**


	12. Chapter 12

*****The Broken Reaper*****

**Chapter 12: Awakening: Drinks, Shopping, Politicians, and Shootouts. Welcome to the Citadel!**

* * *

**AN: You can probably guess what's about to happen by the name, but I have a feeling the results, or at least how we arrive at said results, will surprise you. Time for reviews.**

**NovaSaber: It's not Wrex, that much I will confirm, and you'll have to wait a little bit if you want that war story (but I can tell you, it's coming soon enough). Technically speaking, he's sort-of a character from cannon, we just never learn his name. Think bars and matriarchs. That's all I'm going to say. I should congratulate you though, you convinced me to make a short cameo just for you. Tell you what, two cameos! Although the second one is less a cameo, and more an OC that you might consider a cameo, from a certain point of view.**

**Prometheus-777: That second one. They know there's a good chance they are being/have been/will be indoctrinated in one form or another, but considering they haven't noticed any serious changes in their behavior so far, and seeing as it's Premalon doing it, not the actual reapers, they don't really care much. That little segment where Setherus voices his concerns about becoming like the crew should tell you everything you need to know, especially the way Valora reacts to said concerns. But, I admit I probably should've made it more clear. Guess I suffered from authors syndrome (assuming the reader knows as much as I do). As it does seem like I glossed over it in hindsight, I'll probably be adding a small addition to that recap of what happened over those three days, so thanks for pointing it out. As for that other thing, it's less the adrenaline ability, and more using the fact that he's now a machine to, in his view, slow time to a crawl, seeing as if he really wanted to, he could process the world around him hundreds of times faster than any 'normal' person ever could. The training session in chapter 4 is a perfect example of this in action, he did this as well in chapter 9, the reason it wasn't really shown is because we were looking at it from Ocean's POV. So a 'supercharged adrenaline' if you will. You'll just have to wait and see for the rest, because this is nearing my self-imposed response limit.**

**fredih: No, YOU'RE awesome! Keanu Reeves quotes (sort of) aside, thanks for the review! It was short, sweet, and made me feel warm and fuzzy inside lol. Your wish for more has been granted.**

**I figure I may as well give all of you a better idea about those test results in the simplest way possible: just think of what Cerberus did to it's members in ME3 as a faster acting version of what the experiments did to the crew. It still has a ways to go before the process is fully refined, meaning there will be some changes made to it in the future, so don't expect this to be the last we hear of it.**

* * *

Hystuss just finished whatever it was in his glass, some neon green-and-blue mix that glowed, putting it on the table once he did.

"So, how was it?" Asked Valora.

"Different."

"Oh come on! That was supposed to have been the best dextro stuff they have, and all you can say is it was different?!" Said Valora over her drink, a large mug of batarian ale.

"If that was the best, exactly how much did it cost?" She asked over her own drink, a small cup of fruit flavored asari wine.

"Oh not much, only 370 credits." Valora replied nonchalantly, making her blink, while Hystuss held up the glass to get a closer look at what little liquid was still in it, like he expected it to do something.

"That was for an entire bottle, right?" She said, hoping it was.

"Nope, just that."

She sighed in response, muttering her next words. "Looks like I'll have to move an additional thousand credits into those accounts, if they're going to last longer than an hour that is."

Valora must've heard what she said, as her face looked like it was practically glowing, before she yelled out something that made her glare at the asari in displeasure. "HEY BARTENDER, EVERYONE GETS A FREE ROUND ON ME!"

A chorus of various cheers came from the small crowd inside the bar/nightclub, only the people dancing in a corner not doing so. Before she could say anything else though, Hystuss opened a connection to her._ Ocean, I think it's about time we got started on the real reason we came here._

_You trust her not to cause any trouble while we're gone?_

_No, not really, but I think she'll be fine for a couple hours. I mean it's not like she could start a riot or anything._

_Willing to bet on that?_

He raised a brow-plate in response, looking like he was thinking it over, saying more a few seconds later. _What did you have in mind?_

_After this is all over with, the winner gets to decide what color the loser's armor will be for the next week._

_That seems oddly specific._

_Is it a deal or not?_

He took another second to think about it, responding once he had. _It's a deal, I just figured you'd want something more interesting than that._

_Oh but it is interesting, you haven't seen what colors I've picked out yet._

Hystuss simply shook his head, ending the connection on his end, speaking up after he did. "'Valesra', we're going to the meeting now. Anything you wanted us to buy?"

"Leaving already? But we just got here!"

"Like I said earlier, only the two of you are staying here. 'Primus' and I are going to be busy shopping around." She said.

"Oh right, you did say that didn't you. Well, there's nothing I can think of that I need. Although now that you mention it, I could use a new shotgun. Left my last one back in the hanger."

"I'll be sure to keep an eye out for one. Any specific brands you prefer?"

"Anything as long as it's not made by Elkoss Combine. Their weapons may be cheap, but they're built like shit."

"Good to know. We'll be in the area, so just give us a call if you need anything, your omni-tool has our contact info. Try to take care of 'Sethalis' while we're gone, he's already on his 4th shot."

"Yeah, yeah, make sure pointy doesn't break anything, will do." she paused briefly, before continuing in a strange, almost horrified, voice "Wait: you aren't taking the elevators when you head up are you?"

Not knowing how to respond, she looked at Hystuss, making him shrug slightly, before he spoke. "Yes, what about it?"

"Just trust me on this, do anything but that! Take the stairs, find a rapid transit car, ask someone for a lift, but don't take the fucking elevators! I don't know what sick, twisted, bastard designed them, but they're slower than a stuttering elcor reciting poetry!"

"Umm, what?" Was all he could say, giving her a chance to speak up.

"Come on, they can't be that bad! There's no way they haven't fixed such a simple thing like that! Besides, how would you even know; I thought you said you haven't been here in 30 years?"

"Please, this is the Citadel. Unless the keepers do it, it takes the maintenance crew weeks just to replace a fucking streetlight! I remember the elevators being the exact same even when I first came here, and that was over 170 years ago!"

"I think we'll take our chances. Thanks for the advice though." Hystuss said, getting up and heading towards the door to leave, while she did the same.

Valora just shook her head, a pitying look on her face, before cryptically saying one last thing as they were about to turn out of sight. "Don't say I didn't warn you. You'll find out soon enough."

_**One hour later.**_

_And just like that, I'm never shopping with you, or anyone else, ever again._

_Oh please, it wasn't that bad!_

_This coming from the one that bought half the inventory in that last store? Then made me carry it until we got it sent to the ship? We didn't even need most of that crap!_

_You're just mad they didn't have what you were looking for._

_No, I'm mad because I didn't even have a chance to look for it!_

_What's so special about having a monomolecular blade anyway? Aren't you happy with the vibro-blades?_

_*sigh* I just want one, alright?_

_Old habits die hard?_

_Like you don't still have preferences from before all this._

She didn't respond, unwilling to prove him right, doubly so considering the various purchases she'd made on the extranet without him knowing. They had just finished the shopping trip, finding almost all they needed in terms of gear, and were heading towards one of the nearby elevators. As you couldn't carry weaponry on the Citadel without either having a permit or being given special permission, everything they purchased was shipped to the docking bay where the Countryside was still waiting. The elevator arrived just a few seconds after being called, opening up with a 'ding'.

_Well, so much for them being slow. Looks like I was right after all._

_Let's just get this over with. Have a location on the Councilor?_

_He was last seen leaving the Citadel tower under C-Sec guard four minutes ago, probably headed for his private office at the Hierarchy compound a few blocks away._

_Alright, we'll wait for him there._

They went into the elevator, no one else inside, and started going up. After ten seconds passed, she saw the floor number change by just one, making her run a full body scan to make sure she wasn't imagining things. When she found out she was in fact not, she couldn't help but blink repeatedly in confusion, Hystuss speaking over their private line while she did.

_What's taking this thing so long? I thought the Presidium was only six floors above this one._

_It is, so I have no idea what the wait is all about. Let me try something._

She walked up to the haptic interface in the elevator, touching the emergency manual controls behind it, letting her gain full access to the local systems. _Now then, speed control, speed control…..there you are! What the-why the depths is it set at the absolute minimum?! There are 20 speed settings, and this thing is set to 1!? Time for a 'fix'._

She adjusted it, increasing it to 5 instead. The elevator practically shook when she did, noticeably going faster as a result, arriving at the Presidium level in less than three seconds.

"About damn time." Grumbled a krogan on the other side, drawing her attention to him, at least she assumed it was a him. He looked to be roughly the same age as Vadrax from what she could tell, maybe a little younger, and aside from the armor he wore, the only unusual thing about him she could see was how he had a dull-red crest, looking almost black on the edges. She walked out of the elevator, Hystuss doing the same, before deciding to taunt the big lizard for his remark.

"Well excuse me! Would your majesty like a formal apology?"

He glared at her with one of his red eyes, lightly growling while he spoke. "Watch it, smoothskin." he then glanced at Hystuss, then back at her, scoffing when he did "A turian, why am I not surprised. You may have had the salarians neuter my kind, but we aren't dead yet, and we krogan can hold a grudge for a long time. Remember that."

After he finished, he elbowed his way past them, closing the elevator door once he was inside.

"Talk about rude."

"Guess we got lucky with Captain Vadrax." Said Hystuss.

"Guess so. Well, let's go find the Councilor."

They moved on after that, walking alongside a large indoor lake for several minutes, before something on the other side grabbed her attention. "Wow. I guess if you're going to make a krogan statue, it could only be big, but still."

"Wonder why it's even there? Maybe we can ask about it later, not like this is the only time we're going to be here."

She nodded her head, focusing on what was in front of her once more. They went past what she remembered as the embassies from her study session, a small crowd of several species gathered in the waiting area outside. _Let's see here: quarian, elcor, hanar, volus, batarian, plus the turian and salarian policemen, C-Sec I believe, and that asari receptionist. Every known race in the modern galaxy, minus the krogan, all on display, working and living together. Huh, guess the advertisements got that right at least._

After taking a second glance at the crowd of aliens, she almost bumped into a projector in front of her, making the holographic figure it was showing speak up, startling her. "Welcome back Atrella. It has been 1 year, 29 weeks, and 3 days since the Citadel last welcomed you. This is Presidium Tourism Terminal 1. There are many points of interest here, including the Citadel Embassies and C-Sec headquarters. On the far end of-"

"Darkness dammit, goodbye!"

"Goodbye, and thank you for using Avina. Please enjoy your visit to the Citadel."

After they walked away from it, Hystuss spoke up, sounding confused. "I take it you know what that was supposed to be?"

"Tourist VI, tried hacking one remotely back when we were shopping, ended up making the terminal repeat the same line over and over again, even though no one was actually using it. Suffice to say, it started to get annoying."

"Ah. And the reason you didn't tell me about this earlier is?"

"I figured if you didn't ask, I wouldn't need to tell. Well, that, plus the fact I might have, and keep in mind this is only a guess, alerted the locals to the attempted hack." She said with slight embarrassment.

He let out a deep sigh before speaking, whether in exasperation or an attempt at calming himself, she didn't know. "What am I going to do with you?"

"I believe what you meant to say is: what would you do without me?"

"Oh don't start that crap again! It was bad enough when you made that last-minute change to the security question."

She didn't verbally respond, deciding to look up at the artificial sky and whistle innocently, him glaring at her the entire time. After a few seconds passed, she stopped whistling, and it didn't take long for him to speak up again. "Now that I think about it, and correct me if I'm wrong, but that VI recognized you as the now deceased Atrella, right?"

"Yes, what about it?"

"Why did you go through the trouble of making a completely new identity, when you could've just done the same thing for you that you did for me?"

She stopped walking and blinked, having not really thought about it before now. _Say, why didn't I do that? It would've made all of this far simpler in the long run, especially considering she's still registered as the captain of the Countryside, never mind how I wouldn't have had to do as much work to be ready for our little trip here. *sigh* I just had to show off in front of the kid, didn't I? Well, suppose there's only one course of action I can take: lie like a politician and hope the files I saw were accurate._

"While that's true, it eventually would've caused problems, considering most asari have a remarkably large extended family due to their long lifespan. You were fairly lucky in that respect. No family, no friends, no serious relationships, just another standard government black ops agent with nothing and no one to remember what you were originally like."

While she thought he wasn't going to believe her for a moment there, he nodded his head, making her hold in a sigh of relief. "That makes sense I suppose. Are you going to work on changing the records over to your name?"

_Well, I've come this far, may as well keep going. _"I haven't done that yet, no, but I was going to wait until we left the Citadel before I did. That way the 'change in ownership' will be more believable, as I can have Atrella 'disappear' into somewhere like the Terminus soon after."

"Sounds good. Very good in fact. I'm impressed you thought this far ahead!"

"Well, you know me, always trying to make a plan for everything."

After she said it, it didn't take her long to regret doing so, as 'skeptic' was the only way she could describe the look on his face. _Great job Ocean, why don't you just have a sign made next time, maybe it would be less obvious._

As he couldn't actually hear her thoughts at the moment, he didn't react to it, continuing to walk to their destination rather than respond. It didn't take her longer than a second to do the same, deciding to keep her mouth, both physical and mental, shut for the remainder of the trip. After a few more minutes of walking, she saw a large building in the distance, almost no one nearby aside from several soldiers in front of it, making it look more like a military base than a government office. _Of course, turians being turians, they probably don't see the difference. Well, guess I should tell Hystuss that we're almost there._

"That's the one up ahead, the building with all the guards around it. Looks like we got here before the Councilor."

"How can you tell?"

"Because the men outside didn't move into a combat formation the second we came into view."

He tilted his head in confusion, most likely not understanding her reasoning, making her elaborate further. "If you were guarding one of the most important figures of your entire race, don't you think you would consider everyone you see a possible threat, until proven otherwise?"

He looked down at the ground in thought for a few seconds, before nodding his head in agreement, speaking after he did. "I wouldn't even think twice about it; in that scenario, anyone is suspect, so I'd act accordingly."

"Exactly. But they're not even looking our direction. In other words: he's not here yet."

"I see. So, you want to play a game of cards while we wait?"

"Well that was random. Ok, I'll bite; what game do you mean?"

"It's supposed to be some old asari one, dating back to before they figured out spaceflight, called 'The Five Families'. Basically, there are five sets of cards, with two of each card, starting at 1 and going to 10, as well as three special cards in each set called the Maiden, the Matron, and the Matriarch, also with two of each. There are five wild cards called Justicars that don't belong to any set, meaning you can use them to replace any of the numbered cards if you don't have the one you need, but not the special cards. Each set is supposed to represent a powerful, ancient, and long dead asari family, hence the name. To win, you can do one of three things: either get all three types of special cards belonging to the same set, get five of a kind, and you can use Justicars to finish if you have just three or more, but not less than three, or mix any set's cards to get from 1 to 10. Every player starts with 15 cards, and unless they win, they have to pick up a card and discard one for every turn. You can also pick up the top card on the discard pile, but you still have to put one down yourself. Interested?"

"When did you even have the chance to learn all that?!"

"I had a lot of time to spare over the past four days, decided to start going through the extranet for something to do. Found this soon after, been playing it on my omni-tool ever since. You'd be surprised at how popular it is, even after all the years it's been out there."

She decided to do a quick search for it on the extranet, trying to find out what he meant. Just as he said, she was very much so surprised at how many people regularly played the game, an average of ten billion a week. After she looked up the rules just to make sure he didn't leave anything out, she shrugged, accepting it. "Sure, I'll play. It'll have to be a fast game though, I doubt we'll be waiting long for him to get here."

"Don't worry; even if he does, we can just pick it up later."

And so, they started playing the game over their omni-tool's.

* * *

The past several days had been especially tiring for him, pushing him to the brink in more ways than one. Fortunately for him, the Embassy bar always kept a steady supply of his favorite beverage, a quarian drink made from the beans of a plant called the Tinalah.

"Always a pleasure to have your business, Councilor Campascus." Said the person that made it for him, a middle-aged quarian woman with black hair, as she'd constantly reminded him was the word for it, that worked as the bartender/waitress/chef.

"Please, the pleasure is mine! I still think you should market this to the Hierarchy, I'm even willing to ask the Primarchs to set aside a portion of the budget for it. It would do wonders for morale!" He said, only half-joking. _Damn, even after all this time, I still can't believe how good this is! All it takes is a single cup, and I feel like I got an extra three hours of sleep! Of course, the fact I'm only getting three hours of sleep right now may have something to do with it, but the point stands. *sigh* After this fiasco is over with, I wonder if I could get a nice, LONG, vacation on Palaven. Might give me a chance to finally start work on my autobiography._

He was brought out of his thoughts as the woman chuckled, speaking up in the accent he'd come to associate with their kind, her words almost sounding like a type of melody. "Well, if it ever comes down to that, I'll be sure to send the first few shipments to you, so you can 'test' the product."

He chuckled himself then, standing up to leave. "Glad I could stop in for a cup, Miss Zorah. Say hi to your family for me."

"You've been coming here for years now, I think you can call me by my first name." She said with a raised eyebrow.

"Only when you do the same for me." He replied with a smirk, turning around and walking out. The two turian C-Sec guards that were with him got up as well, standing on either side of him as he went down the stairs leading to the embassy entrance, passing the door to C-Sec headquarters. Once he was back in the Presidium proper, four more guards surrounded him, two turians and two salarians. _I may not like the frogs, but I can respect someone who puts on the badge. To think; just under two centuries since it was founded, and C-Sec has already grown to nearly 100,000 members, made up from every Citadel race! Makes me proud we were the guiding force behind it._

He made a left after walking past the Avina terminal for the Embassies, following the same routine he'd gone through for nearly a decade, heading for the Hierarchy compound nearby. When it finally came into sight, he couldn't help but be confused by a lack of something almost always in the area. _Strange, normally there are dozens of civilians walking around at this time of day. I haven't heard anything about maintenance being done, so why aren't they here?_

He scanned over his surroundings, trying to locate anyone he could. _Aside from the squad of eight out front, the only people here are those two. Something doesn't feel right._

As if on cue, the pair, a turian and asari, stopped whatever they were doing and started walking towards him. When they came within ten meters, he gestured to one of his guards, the salarian recognizing the meaning instantly. The man walked in front of him and put his hand up in the universal gesture meaning 'stop'. The two complied, allowing the officer to speak up. "I am sorry, the Councilor cannot be disturbed at this time. Please forward any requests or complaints you may have to his office."

They looked at each other, seemingly debating something, before the turian said a single word that made his already grey-white scales pale even more. "Premalon."

"What is that supposed to mean? Do you comply with the order, or will you need to be removed forcibly?" Said the salarian, putting both hands on his rifle again, obviously trying to 'encourage' them to move along. As a result, he came out of the shock-induced coma quickly, waving the man down before it could escalate.

"It's alright, I can afford a small delay. Let them through." The officer looked like he wanted to object, but thought better of it, nodding and moving back to his position from earlier. As the duo came closer, he found himself surprised when he recognized one of the faces, having gotten a report of his arrival on-station an hour prior, the owner of said face now standing less than two meters away.

"It's not often a Cabal member comes to see me while on furlough. What was it you wanted to tell me?" He said while opening his omni-tool, pretending to look over his messages, but really starting up a special app he had that narrowed the visibility of anything on his 'tool to those either directly in front of, or behind him, typing out his actual question. _"Where did you learn that word?"_

The man he now identified as Captain Meldos gave him a slight nod of understanding, speaking in vague terms after he did. "I wanted to inform you about a mutual acquaintance I recently came across. He asked me to tell you he wouldn't be able to make it for that upcoming meeting, but that I could pass along anything you were going to discuss."

"Ah yes, I know who you're talking about. A pity then, I was looking forward to that conversation. Did he say where I can contact him in the future?" _"Do you know where he is?"_

If he didn't know any better, he could've sworn Meldos had an amused look in his eyes, speaking in the same manner as before.

"Afraid not, but he said he'll be in touch. If it's alright with you, Councilor, could we continue this somewhere more comfor-" he cut himself off, eyes going wide, while the asari behind him began rapidly looking around, as if searching for something "GET DOWN!"

After Meldos yelled it out, he tackled him, forcing them both to the ground behind a waist-high wall. "What the hell is wrong with-" That's when he noticed the squad outside the compound was no longer there, as well as the two turian guards on his flank having already joined him on the ground, except with trickles of blue blood coming from a tiny hole in their foreheads. _I didn't even hear them hit the ground! Dammit, what's going on?!_

By now, two more guards had been hit, this time a turian and salarian, dropping instantly from the still silent shots, while the final two managed to get into the cover of a nearby aircar, the salarian he told to stop the duo earlier being one of them.

"Sir, stay down! I'll call in reinforcements!" he tried using his omni-tool to do so, only to repeatedly tap the same button in frustration "Shit, they must have jammers in place! But how could they have gotten close enough to-"

Now it was the officer's turn to widen his eyes, as they became almost comically large, something that at any other time would've made the Councilor laugh, but instead only served to form a pit in his stomach as he came to the same realization. There were six guards, and number six was behind the salarian, now pointing his rifle at the back of the other man's head. He didn't have any time to react, the gun so close his barriers couldn't protect him, a small puff of green mist coming out the other side ending his life in an instant. Rather than the turncoat firing on them next, as he expected, the asari outstretched one of her arms, glowing blue while she did, sending what looked like a throw into the man's upper chest, making him slam into the aircar, either killing him outright, or simply knocking him out.

Meldos finally got off of him then, picking up one of the guard's rifles, a standard issue Phaeston, while the asari did the same. He started reaching for one himself, only to stop when he caught a glimpse of an airtruck flying straight for them, the open trailer filled with at least a dozen krogan in red and brown armor, causing him to close his eyes and take a deep breath, knowing what was about to happen_._

_So much for writing that autobiography. Well, if this is to be my last stand, I should probably go out like a proper turian. _He picked up the Phaeston, a few small specks of blue on it from it's previous owner, remembering the training he first received nearly 40 years earlier._ Things were so much simpler then; no constant meetings with alien politicians that I loathe, no lying to the entire galaxy on a regular basis, and no disappearing, ancient, super-dreadnaughts to force me to lose sleep. *sigh* Sometimes, I really do hate my job._

* * *

"Afraid not, but he said he'll be in touch. If it's alright with you, Councilor, could we continue this somewhere more comfor-" that's when he saw the heads of the two guards at the rear of the group jerk back, followed by them slowly falling to their knees, and after that their faces._ I hate it when things don't go according to plan. Ocean, see if you can locate the sniper!_

_Will do._

"GET DOWN!"

He did the only thing he could think of at the moment, tackling the person likely considered the most important one present. _Found them yet?_

_No. Whoever they are, they're probably too far away to be seen without special equipment. So much for just having a chat._

_Why now of all times?_

_How should I know?_

They were interrupted by the turian he was still on top of, the man angrily speaking up. "What the hell is wrong with-" He didn't complete the sentence, looking at the front of the compound, and the two fresh corpses behind him. _What happened to those guys in front of the building?_

_Give me a second. _She tried to take a quick peek at the building in question, ducking down not even a second later, an electric blue round going through where her head used to be, impacting a nearby wall with an odd fizzle, rather than the normal 'ping' that should've come from it. _Couldn't get a good look, was lucky enough to see that one coming._

_Was that a Proton round? I thought those were illegal in Council space._

_Wait, so you know what that thing was?_

_Came across several articles on the extranet covering it, decided to look into it afterward. Turns out they're a special ammo mod that can pierce through shields and barriers, even though they lose a lot of stopping power doing so. Got banned around 80 years ago after they were used to kill a high ranking asari politician of some sort. Not that it stopped assassins, criminals, or Spectres from using it of course, it just keeps the general populace from being able to buy them._

_So the guys shooting at us have ammo that effectively disregards modern protection. Well that's just great! What next, are they going to start throwing trucks at us!?_

In spite of the situation, he couldn't help but smirk at her remark. Rather than continue the conversation, the salarian C-Sec officer from earlier spoke up.

"Sir, stay down! I'll call in reinforcements!" he paused, no doubt to do just that, but it didn't take him long to say something that made Hystuss narrow his eyes in suspicion "Shit, they must have jammers in place! But how could they have gotten close enough to-"

His suspicions proved to be right, the final officer putting his rifle up against the man's head, firing after he did. _Ocean, need some help here!_

_Already on it!_

She raised her right arm in a move he remembered from their training, lining up a throw. It managed to hit the turian on the receiving end just below the neckline, knocking the traitor into the aircar he was behind, in a surprising display of accuracy. _I see someone's been practicing in their spare time._

_You weren't the only one that tried finding something to do on the trip. _She said, smugness lacing every word, a small smile on her face.

_Well, I doubt we'll be able to keep this going with biotics alone. You have all the available combat protocols downloaded?_

_All the basic ones, yes._

_Good. If my experience has taught me anything, it's that the worst is yet to come._

They both picked up one of the rifles dropped by the guards, waiting for whatever came next. Sure enough, a single airtruck started coming towards them, loaded with nothing but large, most likely angry, lizards, otherwise known as krogan. _Well….that's not good. Are the comms back yet?_

_Let me check. _She turned her omni-tool on, nodding in the affirmative soon after. _They're back, whatever jammer that guy used was probably meant to last less than a minute._

_Alright, time we got some help._

"Sir, communications are back up! Can you call in those reinforcements he mentioned?"

The Councilor seemed honestly stunned for a second, but managed to recover quickly, an oddly happy look on his face.

"I can indeed." he opened up his own omni-tool, speaking into it soon after "This is Councilor Campascus, get me a direct line to the Executor's office!"

When the person on the other end spoke up, a salarian from the sound of it, they sounded shocked for some reason. "Councilor, you are still alive?! We received reports that you were killed in an ambush by krogan extremists outside the Hierarchy compound!"

The Councilor narrowed his eyes, and he couldn't blame him, the implications fairly obvious. "Yes, I'm still spirits damned alive! Now. Get. Me. The Executor."

"I'm sorry Sir; the moment the news of your possible death came in, he ordered every available riot squad to converge on your last known position, and decided to go with them."

"Well then how far away is he?!"

There was a pause on the other end, most likely so the salarian could find out, before he spoke up again. "The first squad, along with Executor Maxilian, should arrive in under a minute. Will you be able to hold out until then?"

The Councilor glanced at him and Ocean, replying after he did. "I think so, I currently have some unexpected support. Just make sure they come in guns blazing! I doubt the 'extremists' will surrender peacefully."

"Of course, Sir! I will relay the situation to him immediately."

"Then do so." he said, ending the call, looking at the two of them again "Have either of you fought against krogan before?"

Ocean looked at him, a smirk on her face, while he answered the question. "You could say that."

"Good, I'll let you take the lead until C-Sec gets here."

This time, Ocean had a near sadistic grin on her face, and even he couldn't stop the excited smile that formed on his own. "Don't worry Sir, just stay in cover and let us handle it."

The real turian present looked skeptical for a second, but gave him a brief nod, making a quick check over the rifle he had picked up after he did.

_Ocean, I think it's about time we cut loose._

_You read my mind._

_Only occasionally._

They both chuckled at the joke, confusing the third person present, before jumping out of their respective cover, charging the group of now very surprised aliens still getting off the truck, using every bit of their unnatural strength and speed once they were in melee distance.

* * *

**I bet you all thought the meeting was going to be nothing more than Premalon having a conversation with the Councilor, am I right? *smirks in satisfaction* I am, aren't I? Always nice to throw a monkey wrench into an otherwise simple event. I mean after all, this is the Mass Effect universe. Just because Premalon is now on the stage, doesn't mean every plot, plan, and scheme made by the various actors already present will be put on hold. Oh and I wanted to ask you guys something; is it weird when you feel sorry for the unnamed characters about to be turned into krogan-shaped confetti?**

**In the original timeline (in my head-canon at least) this would've ended with Campascus being killed, resulting in C-Sec's reasons for 'apprehending' Wrex in the first game being justified, rather than the stereotype of 'all krogan are violent, bloodthirsty, savages'. Of course, in that scenario it's less a stereotype, and more a thousand year-old, galaxy spanning, species wide reputation, that was without a doubt well earned; in no small part because krogan culture is in fact violent, very much so bloodthirsty, and by most people's standards savage. So yeah, they kicked themselves in their own quad (to borrow a saying from a certain matriarch) with that one. As for the more important changes because of this, to use a line from one of my own characters; if I said, it would be telling, now wouldn't it?**

**Also, while it may not seem like it in the games, Proton ammo and it's variations are ridiculously useful, if it was being realistic anyway. I mean think about it; the only reason you don't use it more often (in my case at least) is because it does less damage. But here's the thing: real life doesn't have a health bar. Now granted, because of the lower power behind each shot, all it would take is a decent helmet to keep it from being immediately fatal; but how many npc's, never mind Shepard, actually wear a helmet? Even a .22 can kill if it's a headshot, and ME guns pack a lot more punch than a .22, so I'm surprised this mechanic isn't used more often by authors.**

**I have to wonder why Bioware didn't add in a card game in mass effect. I mean, they did it in KOTOR (pazaak), so why not here? This was my attempt to rectify that situation. It's honestly funny really; I did in around thirty minutes what a multi-national gaming company, with a yearly revenue in the millions, still hasn't done, even after a decade. Is that developer rage I hear? *cue maniacal laugh***

**I actually have an excuse for why this chapter was delayed somewhat: I just started up a new playthrough. Femshep, adept, going for renegade. Funnily enough, even after having all three games for several years now, this is both the first time I've played as an adept, as well as playing a renegade Shepard, so it's pretty enjoyable having to learn as I go. Just thought I'd let you all know why my update speed might begin to slow down over the next several weeks.**

**Well anyway, as always, it was a pleasure writing this out, so I hope you enjoyed and I'll see you next time!**


	13. Chapter 13

*****The Broken Reaper*****

**Chapter 13: Awakening: More Questions, Unsettling Answers, and a Large Repair Bill**

* * *

**AN: Can't really think of anything to say here, so let's cover reviews.**

**NovaSaber: And now you know why the Councilors of the 2180's rarely, if ever, leave the Citadel: it's the only place they're relatively safe. As far as I know, there isn't anything in canon that can stop it from making at least a partial penetration. Fortunately for me, I have an entire millennia to play with, and this isn't going to look very much like canon by the end of it (there might be similarities, maybe a few events that I leave in as being too important not to have, but that's about it). To put it another way; advances will be made. No more stagnant tech development thank you. Also, no, it's not wrong to feel sorry for the 'extremists'. They're about to get a first-hand lesson in why avoiding a fight is often the best option, not that they'll be alive long enough to learn that. *cue sadistic grin* Oh, and here's your war story. I meant what I said about it coming soon enough. Enjoy!**

**Prometheus-777: That wasn't the only cameo, as you're about to find out. Lol, I couldn't help but add in the old elevator gag, glad you liked. Keep in mind the bodies our two reaper MC's are in are called 'infiltrator models' for more than the obvious reason of them looking like actual people. Unless a thorough scan is conducted, there's no way to detect any serious differences between them and a living body, especially if the nanites that normally form the armor are serving as the 'organs' instead. This is true even for other reapers, as the body is itself made from their own technology, and it's very good at it's intended job of hiding in plain sight. You have to remember the Catalyst only ever does something when it absolutely has to, as it just sat back and watched Sovereign get destroyed, rather than help out. The only reason we even know it exists is because the freaky little bugger wanted Shepard to choose one of the options before he/she died anyway (not counting the DLC ending if you choose destruction). As for saving Nihlus or Saren from dying and becoming a reaper pawn respectively, I'm going to use a quote from Ocean that's quickly becoming my go-to excuse whenever I don't want to spoil the plot; if I said, it would be telling, now wouldn't it? Oh and before I forget; the Councilor is not in fact married. That's not to say he's avoiding a relationship, it's just that he hasn't really dedicated any time to the idea. Read to find out more, because I'm not spoiling it.**

**Tom712: Darn it! Well I bet you can't figure out what I intend to do when…..and you already know. But what about the death of…..how could you have figured it out so soon?! Don't tell me you've deduced the secret past of…..all the way back in chapter 6? Even before you finished reading it!? HOW?! (Lol, on a more serious note, thanks for the review. Gave me a good laugh, just like how I hope this does for you.)**

**Pteaset: Glad you like, hope you continue to enjoy!**

**I'm surprised no one's mentioned the first of the two cameos in the last chapter. Guess that means the final section here is going to be from a POV at least some of you won't expect, which I'm rather happy about to be honest; it makes the surprise when you do get to it that much more satisfying.**

**We'll be picking up where we left off with a rather long section from the Councilor, so I hope none of you are reading this in 3D, because it's about to get messy. I had way too much fun writing this out, even laughing myself at some of the scenes. This is unrelated to it, but does anyone want to place bets on how many krogan will still be in one piece (I mean this literally) when C-Sec finally gets there?**

* * *

He was about to yell at them to get back into cover, but stopped after he looked over his own. The asari was running faster than any of her kind that he'd ever seen, while Meldos could give even the best turian athlete second thoughts about their abilities, both headed straight for the krogan that were already off the truck. _Don't tell me they're going to engage the lizards in CQC! That's suicide!_

The six krogan on the ground apparently thought the same, three just staring at the duo in surprise like he was, while the other three were letting out bellows of cruel laughter. Said laughter was very much so short-lived, as when they came within arms reach of the nearest one, the asari sent a warp into the no longer laughing krogan's helmet, the man one of the few present to actually wear one, exposing a widening eye on the other side, followed by Meldos shoving something into the eye, causing the alien to roar in a mix of pain and anger. Neither of them stayed around very long after he did, continuing their push to the next krogan closest to them. The one they'd already ran past turned around and started shooting at them with his shotgun, already in a bloodrage from the way he wasn't even trying to aim, though that could be attributed to losing half of his vision not even ten seconds earlier. He looked like he was about to charge after them, only for a flash of near blinding light to come from his head, followed by him falling to the ground in a loud 'thud', smoke rising from where the light originated. _Was that a flashbang? Spirits! I've heard of STG members having them installed behind their eyes in case of capture, but to do it like that? And to a krogan no less?!_

An involuntary shiver went up his spine at the brutal act, but it proved to be rather tame in comparison to what came after it. The next target/victim, he wasn't sure which word was more accurate, started firing at the pair with his own shotgun, only managing to put several holes in the metal flooring as they split up and began moving unpredictably, frustrating the krogan. As they came close to him, he grabbed the butt of his gun like it was a club, swinging wildly in an attempt to land what Campascus was sure were devastating blows, missing every time. Neither of them looked like they were even trying, dancing around the now obviously enraged krogan in near perfect synchrony, like there was a song only they could hear being played. They moved to opposite sides of him, each sending a biotic throw into his head after they did, creating a wet popping noise when the abilities collided, making it explode in a shower of orange gore.

Once his headless body hit the floor, they went to different targets, the other four just now recovering from a moment of shock. The asari went after the pair on the right, and closed in on them at the same speed as before, and once close enough somehow managed to get one of them to shoot the other in the stomach with it's oversized weapon after she ducked at just the right moment. The result was the internal organs for that part of his body to no longer be internal, before she ran up to the one that had just gutted his comrade, activating an omni-blade around her left arm, and very nearly beheading the beast in one smooth motion. It all took place in less than fifteen seconds. When she was done, rather than help out, she stood and watched the other person's fight, content to be a spectator.

Speaking of which, the turian of the duo had pulled a massive combat knife off of one of the recently made corpses, the krogan blade looking like a sword in his hands, while attaching the rifle to his back. He then said something Campascus could only barely hear, obviously directing it at his opponents. "So, are you two morons going to draw your own? I'm a busy man: places to go, things to do, and dealing with a couple of humpbacked reptiles is fairly low on my list of priorities."

The remark earned him a roar from one of the pair, the alien firing several rounds at Meldos, forcing him behind one of the numerous parked aircars in the area. The krogan kept shooting until his shotgun overheated, making the brute stare dumbfounded at the gun in his hands, causing Meldos to calmly walk out from cover, a vicious grin plastered on his face that Campascus could see even from ten meters away. "Guess not. Don't worry though, I'll make this quick."

He didn't say anything else, rushing the idiot, while the more intelligent of the two stayed back, trying to get a bead on him with an assault rifle. The Captain used the one he was approaching as unwilling cover, closing in on him, and the man threw his still overheated weapon at him in apparent rage, finally drawing his own sword-like blade. The second krogan started moving to the side to get a better angle on his intended target, but Meldos matched the movements, visibly angering the other lizard. "Get the hell out of the way, Tratsk! You're blocking my shot!"

The other man, helpfully identified as Tratsk, turned around to look at the speaker, the mistake almost immediately being fatal. Meldos made his move, plunging the borrowed blade into the now exposed waist of Tratsk, the krogan steel doing it's job all too well, as the tip could be seen coming out the other side. The poor bastard had just enough time to look down at it in confusion, before Meldos pushed the 'knife' forward and out, for all intents and purposes cutting him in half. The second he did, the one that spoke sent a long burst at him, but he used the upper half of the dead man's body as a shield, his right arm glowing blue. His opponent noticed this, ducking behind a building, only for the expected biotic attack to never come. The turian dropped the 'shield' and ran around the corner, several shots going off, followed by a warcry that could only have come from the krogan, before it ended just as quickly as it began. The Councilor couldn't see them from his position, so he didn't know what happened, but Meldos appeared shortly after it ended, most of his dark grey chestplate covered in large splatters of orange blood, the pattern looking similar to old turian camouflage designs, if you ignored the colors at least.

When the last one on the ground was killed, the remaining seven still on the airtruck decided that survival was more important than fighting a worthy foe, lifting back up into the air so they could fire at them from safety, forcing the two walking blenders into cover.

It was then he heard a blaring siren from behind him, turning around to see the flashing lights of C-Sec in the distance. _Took them long enough!_

"Meldos, we're about to get-" He tried telling him, only to stop as he saw the Cabal soldier pick up a large grenade from one of the slain krogan, hefting it like a rock and throwing it at the underside of the still floating truck. Either he was lucky, or his aim was true, as it detonated the second it hit, blowing out the vehicle's engine, causing it to come crashing back down to the ground. He picked up two more grenades from the same corpse, throwing them in ten second intervals, resulting in several limbs flying away from the epicenter. Only a single krogan survived it, trying to crawl out from the wreckage, missing both his legs from the knee down. Meldos picked up one of the several shotguns dropped on the ground during the fight, slowly walking up to the survivor, and put the barrel up against the man's head, firing only once, increasing the amount of orange on his armor even more, but now making the same pattern on his legs instead. He couldn't help but gawk as the final round went off, the realization hitting him full force. _I just witnessed two people take on thirteen fully armed krogan, and win without a single scratch. That's…..not normal. *sigh* Why do I have the feeling I won't be getting that vacation any time soon?_

He was brought out of his thoughts when the black-and-blue shuttle touched down near where he was, Meldos and the asari moving to him, the former having attached the knife and it's sheath to his waste, along with the shotgun he used, both of them holding their Phaestons in a relaxed grip. The shuttle door opened, a C-Sec squad deploying in an orderly manner, four of the eight turian officers with riot shields raised and heavy pistols rated for taking down elcor sticking out from the right side. They surveyed the area for any other combatants, one of them putting a hand on their helmet, soon followed by the four shield bearers forming up around the Councilor in a defensive stance, facing outward. The other four stayed by the shuttle, Executor Maxilian now stepping off of it, dressed in standard C-Sec combat gear, bright yellow colony markings on his dark brown forehead and mandibles. The man walked towards him, his own four guards joining those carrying the shields, forming a circle around the group.

"Councilor, my deepest apologies about how long it took us to arrive. We left as soon as word of the attack came in." he grunted in response, prompting him to continue "Looks like we missed one hell of a fight! Are any of your original guards still alive?"

"The only one that might be tried assassinating me as soon as the rest of them were dead, even killed one of the salarians before he was put down. Just look for the one without a hole in his head." He said, causing an enraged look to cross the Executor's face, several of the surrounding turians turning their heads to stare at him in a mix of shock and anger.

"I'll be sure to interrogate the filth personally. Officer Pallin, you and Officer Quenedas find the sack of varren shit and put him in cuffs. If he needs medical attention, take him to the C-Sec infirmary."

"Yes, Sir!" The man said, moving towards one of the fallen officers, a second one doing the same. It didn't take them long to find the would-be assassin, putting krogan-grade cuffs on his wrists, and then dragging him to the shuttle. As the three men went past him, the Executor spoke up, sounding like he was torn between his own anger and depressed resignation.

"I don't have the words to describe how sorry I am for allowing this to happen. If you'd like, I'll formally step down from the office of Executor once an appropriate replacement has been found."

"No need for that to happen, Maxilian. You're a good man, you know and follow Council law better than anyone I've ever met, turian or otherwise. Besides, there's no way you could've predicted this." He said, trying to reassure him. It seemed to work, as Maxilian let out a breath he was holding in. Now that he was sure he held the man's full attention, he continued. "That wasn't the only unusual aspect of this, however. Four of the guards died before we even knew what was happening, a sniper putting a single shot through their shields and into their heads. Not counting how the tech used to do so had to have been highly illegal, I doubt a krogan was the one to pull the trigger, so see what you can find out about any contract killers currently on-station. One more thing: the squad outside the compound was nowhere in sight as soon as the bodies started dropping. I want an explanation as to why."

"I'll have some of my men look into it. Was there anything else I can do for you in the meantime?"

"I still need to have a meeting with these two to discuss some information they brought to my attention, but only if the location is clean, as there's a good chance it will be highly classified. Is your office available?"

"Of course, I have it swept clean every day to keep any criminal groups from planting recording devices."

"Good. I'll be needing your shuttle to get there though, so I hope you don't mind."

"It's all yours, I can have another one sent here before too long."

He nodded his head, happy there weren't going to be problems with any of it. "Glad for the assistance, Executor." He said, extending his right arm.

"Glad I could assist, Councilor." Maxilian replied, grabbing his forearm and shaking it. He left the man to his work, heading to the shuttle with the shield bearing officers around him, Meldos and the asari still at his sides. As they stepped inside, he looked at his saviors, remembering how he had yet to do something. _I never did learn her name, did I? Well, no better time then the present._

"Sorry for waiting so long to do so, but could you tell me your name, Miss?"

"Cerhn Perdweigh, I'm an old friend of Primus."

"Glad to make your acquaintance, Miss Perdweigh. Herieus Campascus."

She chuckled lightly, and he had to keep himself from slapping his forehead when he realized the mistake in hindsight. "I know who you are, Councilor. Wouldn't be surprised if half the galaxy does."

"Ah, yes, well…." He stopped to clear his throat, trying to hide the embarrassment at the blunder. _I really need to get more sleep if it's starting to make me slip up so easily. _"Back to more important matters. Pilot, take us to the embassies."

The response he got was a simple 'Yessir!', the asari pilot doing just that. The shuttle lifted off, giving him a good look at the carnage of the relatively short engagement that took place below. He couldn't help but stare at the amount of damage to the area, everything from scorch marks from the crash and subsequent grenades, to countless bullet holes scattered across the normally pristine section of the Presidium. As the doors slid shut, he caught a glimpse of the compound, finally knowing what happened to the squad of eight that protected it. _Every one of them killed in the same way as the guards judging by how they fell. When C-Sec finds the scum responsible, I'll make sure they get sent to a turian court. No life sentence at the cost of the citizenry like the dammed asari would do, and no backroom deals in exchange for a lower sentence like the salarians would make. The execution by firing squad will be broadcasted live for all to see; it's about time the parasitic underworld of the galaxy was reminded of what 'true justice' is supposed to look like._

The trip went by in silence for the next few minutes, eventually being broken by the pilot. "Warning ahead of time, Sir, but news of the attack got out. I was just told several reporters are in the embassy lobby, harassing anyone wearing a badge to get more information. Want to have them cleared out before we arrive?"

_And of course the damn media want to stick their noses in this before we even know what actually happened. *sigh* No avoiding it I suppose, just another aspect of being a Councilor. _"No, let them stay. If anything, it will at least alleviate the public's concerns to see me alive and well."

"I'll relay the order to the officers already there."

He didn't respond, and she did as she said, speaking over the comms to C-Sec headquarters. It was less than a minute after that that they arrived, and he could already imagine dozens of camera drones flashing as they took pictures of him immediately after the attack, either to say he looks traumatized in an obvious lie that would still be believed by some when supported by 'experts', or to show he came through none the worse for wear, still more than capable of holding the office, all depending on the news source it came from. After he felt the shuttle touch down, the door slid open, and he wasn't disappointed, as the flashes were enough to make him wince slightly at their intensity, with the questions that followed being nearly as intense, the voices overlapping each other. "Councilor, how could this have happened on the-" said a quarian "Was this attempt on your life a result of-" said an asari "Do you think the krogan race should be-" said a salarian "Will you be retiring once you recover from-" said another asari "Could attempts be made on the other Councilors now that-" said a batarian "Glad to see you made it out unharmed, Councilor. Is it known who-" said a turian, making him single out the woman, looking to be in her early-to-mid thirties, her plates and scales an attractive light tan and white respectively, with forest green colony markings on her mandibles._ Oh, if I was twenty years younger, those hips would be the only thing on my mind. Damn am I starting to get old._

"You there, what was the rest of that question?"

The other reporters stopped talking and all eyes turned on her. He could see her take a short breath before she spoke, sounding as confident as possible. "Tasia Laelin, Hierarchy Hourly News. Is it known who was responsible for this attack?"

"Not at this time, no. However, I can say this with certainty: the krogan involved may have been hostile, but were only meant to take the blame for it. Those behind it were without a doubt not krogan themselves, as the organization and planning shown was from anything but their kind." Several of the reporters typed it down on their omni-tool's, and she asked a second question, most likely trying to keep it going as long as she could.

"It was reported there were six C-Sec officers with you when you were last seen. What happened to them?"

"All but one were killed during the attack." every reporter present glanced at him in brief shock, even Laelin herself widening her eyes, if only a little "As for more information on how they died, you'll have to wait for C-Sec to conclude it's investigation."

This time it was one of the asari that spoke up, cutting Laelin off. "A follow-up question to that. If only one survived, then who are the two people behind you? I've heard the same reports regarding the officers escorting you, but none of them were asari, and he isn't wearing a C-Sec uniform."

"I'm sorry, but at this time I can't answer-" he was interrupted by a tapping on his shoulder, turning around to see that it was Meldos, whispering low enough so that only he could hear.

"Councilor, wouldn't it be a better idea to tell them I was simply visiting the Presidium with a friend while on leave and miraculously came across your predicament just in time, rather than having them investigate further to find out what really happened? Besides, I'm sure they'd love a good story like that."

He took a second to think it over, finding no real flaws in the fiction, and decided to go with it, whispering back his response. "Not bad, it gives the rabid varren exactly what they want; a vacationing soldier just happens to save the important politician from an untimely death at the hands of common thugs. Be my guest, the stage is yours."

Meldos raised a brow-plate and gave him a small smile in amusement, before both faded entirely as he came up beside him, the drones flashing their lights again, once more making him wince. "My name is Captain Primus Meldos, the asari on my right is an acquaintance of mine by the name of Cerhn Perdweigh. I was on leave before all this happened and asked to meet her here on the Citadel to catch up with each other. We were traveling through the Presidium when the Councilor came under attack. As we both have extensive knowledge in the use of various weaponry, we aided him against the assailants, holding them off until Executor Maxilian of C-Sec arrived with reinforcements."

The asari that asked the question began typing something on her omni-tool again, many of the rest doing the same. The next person to say something was the lone batarian, looking Meldos up and down appraisingly, speaking in a higher than normal pitch for his species. "I can't help but notice what's covering your armor. What lead to that much krogan blood getting on you?"

The quarian and two asari looked at the batarian in slight disgust, whereas the salarian and Laelin appeared curious about it themselves. Meldos didn't seem like he cared though, answering the question like one would if asked about the weather, or what they had for breakfast.

"During the attack, I was forced to engage one of the krogan in close quarters. I managed to gain the upper hand, and killed him with his own weapon soon after." he said with a hand hovering over the sheathed blade on his waist, the asari getting uncomfortable, yet making a corner of the batarian's mouth curl in a slight smile "I was underneath him at the time, so I could not avoid the result of how he died."

"At last, a turian that manages to look attractive to my kind." Campascus had to do a double take when he said that, looking over the batarian closer than he had before. _Thinner than usual mouth, high pitched voice, less musculature than normal, closer together shoulders, and the, compared to an asari or quarian, small pair of mammary glands on the chest. Oh spirits dammit, now my lack of sleep is even beginning to make me confuse genders!_

Meldos only blinked, most likely not knowing how to react, giving the salarian a chance to speak up. "You said you managed to win against a krogan in melee combat. How? Have you received special training?"

Knowing that if he let it continue they'd be there for hours, he decided to cut in. "I'm sorry, but that's all the time for questions we have at the moment. I'll hold a press conference five hours from now, at fifteen-hundred Galactic Standard Time, if you have any more."

They all tried one last time to ask something, only to stop and walk away when the shield bearing C-Sec officers approached them, giving each person a menacing glare. Knowing he might never have the opportunity to do so again, he did something he was sure to regret later. _Right now I don't even care. At least if she says no, I'll have an answer._

"Miss Laelin, a moment please."

She glanced at the officers in slight worry, but managed to hide it before it became obvious, even though he still saw it. "Yes, Councilor?"

"I was wondering if you might like a private interview at The Primarch's Chef, I've heard the food is some of the best on the entire station. Only the two of us of course, I'm buying."

Her brow-plates shot up in surprise, but that was the only physical change he noticed. "Councilor, are you asking me if I'm willing to go on a date with you?"

He shook his head, already feeling like this was a bad idea. "No, of course not. Like I said, just a private interview, you can even bring your drone if you want."

She thought it over, and eventually her right mandible raised itself in a smirk. "I think I'd be fine with having an 'interview'. What time?"

"Tomorrow at twelve."

"I'll be sure to be available for it. Was that everything, Councilor?"

"Yes, that was all I wanted to ask."

She gave him a light nod, turning around and walking away, though he noticed how her hips were now swinging from side-to-side, even making a couple of his guards follow the movements with their eyes.

_Nice to know I've still got it. Damn, does that dress look good on her. _He shook his head to clear the invasive thoughts, coming back to the matter at hand. "Now that that's over with, time we had that conversation."

"Are you sure you don't want to ask anyone else out? I'm sure C-Sec has some decent looking women in their headquarters." Said Perdweigh with far too much sarcasm for his liking, to which Meldos and each of the surrounding officers snickered, while he simply glared, not really being in the mood for jokes at his expense, causing the officers to stop, but not the final two members of the group, as it didn't so much as phase them.

He didn't react to it aside from that, walking up the stairs to the left of the receptionist, coming into the Executor's office, having left the four guards outside. As soon as the door hissed shut, he spoke up. "Tell me everything you've learned about Premalon. Where did you first meet him? What lead to you becoming his messenger? Why do both of you know about him? And most concerning; how is it that you two easily outperformed at least a dozen different Spectres against those krogan, but before now I've never even heard of you?"

Rather than respond, Perdweigh walked up to the table with the Executor's holomonitor, placing an odd purple cube on it, the thing putting out a whirring noise before every light in the room flickered for a moment. She then picked it up, the cube disintegrating into dust in her hand, shocking him. Only then did Meldos give him a response, sounding more cryptic than anything. "The answer to those questions would take far too long for me to verbally explain. With that in mind, this is the fastest and easiest way to do so. You should've just gotten a message on your omni-tool, open it and you'll learn everything you want to know."

He did as instructed, feeling more tired than anything else, and not wanting to force the man into telling him because of it. _Sometimes I think these operatives get too into the 'spy' role that they're stereotyped as. *sigh* Well, it can't hurt to see what he meant._

When he went to look at his messages, he did indeed find a new one, given the odd title of 'Project Downfall'. He opened it, seeing dozens of additional files under different names that he didn't understand the meaning of. _Reaper Origins, The First Cycle, Indoctrination, Reaper Technology, Full Body Conversion, Estimated Reaper Fleet Growth, certainly plenty of things about whatever this 'Reaper' is. What's this one about the Shadow Broker, and why does it sound so familiar?_

He decided to select it, even more files showing when he did. _Possible Historical Influences, Predicted Infiltration Levels, First Established Contact. First Established Contact? Well, suppose that's as good as any other option._

This time there weren't any more files to chose from, a simple option to play a vid from what looked like a helmet camera, the date being shown four days earlier. He tapped it, the first thing he saw being what appeared to be an airlock of some sort, before it opened up, making his eyes to widen in surprise at what was on the other side. _A Blackwatch team? I don't remember there being any assignments for one recently. Where's this supposed to be from?_

He kept watching, tilting his head in confusion when one of the spec-ops soldiers spoke, recognizing it as Meldos' voice. He was even more confused when he heard Premalon responding to it, not liking what either person said in the least. That's when a third voice joined in, a deep and artificial one sounding like what those in a witness protection program would use, making his confusion turn into caution. Around five seconds later in the conversation, a small screen appeared at the bottom left, showing a view of the Presidium through a wall-to-wall window. He didn't understand the reason behind it at first, but it didn't take him long to find out, an asari walking in front of it and laughing at the same time as the voice.

"I am but a humble information broker, earning a living in the shadows of society. You intrigue me, Premalon. That fiction you gave to the turians back on Jartar would've fooled anyone else, and I will freely admit to it almost fooling me. A pity for you that I have more than a few connections I was able to use to disprove it." _Wait, information broker? Living in the shadows? So that's where I recognized it from, I've had to do business with them on occasion. So they're an asari? Good to know. So Premalon came into contact with this 'Shadow Broker' four days ago, and Meldos was working for her? That doesn't make any sense; I mean why would he give this to me if he's supposed to be associated with Premalon? Unless…._

He kept watching the recording, it ending after the Broker panicked and cut the signal. Deciding to ask the question, he spoke up. "What happened after that? And why are you working for Premalon now? You are working for him, right?"

Meldos didn't answer him immediately, locking eyes with the asari and going through a variety of expressions too fast for him to track, eventually giving him more instructions. "Open the file labeled 'Full Body Conversion'."

He narrowed his eyes in suspicion, but did it anyway, intent on getting to the bottom of it. He wasn't prepared for what was inside; countless sets of three images, with two labeled 'before' and one 'after' side-by-side, showing dozens of obviously dead batarian and occasionally turian or salarian bodies being put on tripods of the same purple metal as the odd device from earlier, followed by a spike jutting out and through them, the final image being that of the same bodies but with glowing blue cybernetics present on nearly every piece of exposed skin, with said skin having turned into a pale, dead, grey. Even though those were by far the most numerous, and easily nightmare inducing, the ones he found most terrifying were the six given the special labels of 'Infiltrators'. They showed a dead male and female turian and batarian, an asari, and a male salarian in a far different room than the rest, with them on what could only be described as an operating table, tubes inserted into every part of their body pumping some sort of pale blue liquid inside them, with the before and after showing next to no difference aside from whatever wound having killed them to no longer be there. What really made them worse than the others is that the final image had them sitting on the table instead of laying on it, a total lack of any emotion or expression on their faces, with most of the tubes no longer in them. When he took a closer look at the male turian and asari, he couldn't hold in the gasp that followed, glancing between the images and the people standing in front of him in shock. What he now knew to be the undead turian took that as his cue to speak, his voice an exact match for Premalon's, rather than the flanging turian one it should've been. "Now you know why I refused to share the process for making these bodies when we last spoke to each other. What else do you want to know?"

It took him close to forty seconds to find his voice again, still trying to register what he had just learned.

"I….this….what are you?" He finally managed.

"That's also included in the message. Open the one labeled-" He was cut off by his omni-tool flashing off-and-on, the dark grey device showing someone was trying to call him. For a reason Campascus didn't know, Meldos, or Premalon apparently, let out a deep sigh when he saw who it was, while Perdweigh had a massive grin on her face. _If that's even her real name._

Whichever it was, he accepted the call, an annoyed tone in his voice as he spoke up. "Valora, please tell me the caller ID was wrong when it said you're using a C-Sec prisoner line?"

The person on the other end chuckled nervously, an asari if he had to guess, making him wonder who it was. _"What, not even a hello? Saw you on the news before making this call, what happened?"_

"I can tell you later, but nice try at dodging the question. Are you currently in lockup?"

There was a long pause, and when she answered, it sounded like it pained her to say it. _"I regret to inform you that yes, I am."_

Premalon muttered something that sounded like 'darkness dammit', causing Perdweigh to interrupt him with a smug look on her face. "I would've picked something else, but I think dark grey and orange camo looks good on you. So, want me to bail them out?"

"Do it, I'm going to be here for a while."

"I'll be sure to let them know about the bet, it's only fair after all." She said teasingly as the door opened up for her to leave, closing before Premalon could respond, causing the 'turian' to grumble several words under his breath that his translator didn't recognize. _"Soooo….what was that she said about a bet?"_

* * *

_**One hour earlier, A Huntress Never Tells, Upper Wards.**_

"We were on some backwater, third tier colony world, the atmosphere barely breathable, even for us krogan, so the only way the former colonists could live on it was due to a small dome city they built. Once the rachni showed up, they massacred everyone there, not even leaving the bodies behind. It was nearing sunset locally, the system's orange star making it look like the entire planet was coated in krogan blood. The main army was already fighting against the bugs on a different continent, pushing them further back. We had salarian intelligence saying that because of it, the queen was being moved to the only ship they had left, a cruiser sized asteroid they'd hollowed out and slapped on shields and engines, leaving us with a three hour window to get in and turn her into bug-shaped paste. There were twenty of us, and we were five minutes away from the queen chamber, when a dozen rachni, three of them brood warriors, came out from one of the tunnels along our path. The two men on point were dead in seconds, bathed in so much acid not even their chestplates were left. The leader of our group, some ancient in his 1,200's, ordered me to charge ahead and kill the queen while they held the brood warriors off. So there I was, crushing rachni workers with every step I took, when I came into the main chamber, the massive bitch looking at me like I was Kalros herself, there to consume the thing's soul." he paused to take a chug of ryncol "She tried bringing me down with her biotics, and let me tell you, a queen's biotics are a sight to behold, but it didn't stop me, even when she started tearing out pieces of the floor and launching them like they were cannon shells. I finally got past her barriers with a shot from my Graal, but that's when she started flinging that damn rachni acid at me; melted the barrel like it was made of ice instead of steel. Without my gun, and knowing my knife would start melting the second I broke through it's natural armor, I tackled her, knocking the insect on her back, and started stomping on her, crushing the arms and legs she raised to protect herself like they were made of rotted wood. She didn't like it, screeching in pain while I was doing it, and managed to spit one last glob of acid from her mouth. It landed on my helmet and started melting through, but I was in the middle of a bloodrage and didn't notice it until her screeching finally stopped. By the time I yanked the helmet off, it had burned through, leaving me with this beauty as a prize. What I wouldn't give to have that fight a second time….."

The bouncer finally finished the third story, taking a massive swig of ryncol, the bottle having been upgraded to a full sized jug after he went through the first one, half the customers in the club surrounding him to hear the history lessons. After several seconds of total silence, another krogan spoke up, this one looking like a child in comparison to the scarred man. "Varren shit! My father's father told me a queen could take on a dozen warriors without even trying! The rest of you actually believe this crap?!"

"Shut it, whelp! You didn't even fight in the rebellions, much less the rachni war, how would you even know what a real warrior is?"

"I've challenged an ancient that fought the rachni; the old fool didn't even last a full minute!" He said boastfully.

"Then he was obviously a weakling, just like you."

No one said a word as the two krogan were staring each other down, only to be interrupted by a very drunk Kalnen. "Ah, you shklogan are alwaysh at eash others *hic* throash, we did yoush a favor with the genofajh."

They both turned their heads to the turian, the younger of the two loudly growling. _Well shit, he couldn't keep his mouth shut long enough for them to kill each other. *sigh* Time for some damage control._

"Now come on, guys, no need to get rough! He's obviously just had too many drin-" she was interrupted by another turian, several others behind him "He's right! You damn krogan are always trying to fight, either yourselves, or anyone else you can find! At least the genophage keeps you in check!"

As expected, the younger one let out a roar, only to be held back by the bouncer. She thought the situation had been defused, but Kalnen decided otherwise, throwing his shot glass at the older of the two, still filled with half the drink inside it. Said krogan then released the other one, him charging at the group of turians and throwing one of them to the side, crashing into a table with four batarians, splashing each of them with their mugs of ale. They all let out growls and snarls of their own, two of them punching the turian still on the table, while the other two charged into the fray. This seemed to spark the rest of the crowd into a frenzy, as now even the asari and quarian customers were getting involved, while six more krogan showed up from somewhere just to make it more interesting, with the turians and batarians in the club forming up in groups of five, either taking on each other, or going after one of the krogan. _Oh damn it all to fucking hell…well, guess I shouldn't let a good opportunity pass me by._

She joined in on the 'fun', jumping on the back of an elcor that was trying his best not to get involved, and yelled out at the top of her lungs. "BRING IT ON, BITCHES!"

Her 'mount' apparently didn't like the fact she was treating him like a saddled animal, trying to shake her loose. "Indignant exclamation: Get off me you damn crazy asari, I am not an amusement ride."

She didn't care, whooping and hollering as loud as she could every time he tried bucking her off, picking up any drinks she came across and downing the ones she knew were safe for consumption, occasionally even throwing their contents on some of the crowd. She was eventually pulled off the big alien by someone, giving her the opportunity to beat up a salarian she landed on for no real reason, laughing madly the entire time. She picked up one of the krogan's mugs without knowing it after knocking the salarian out, and poured half the contents down her throat, everything rapidly becoming an unrecognizable haze to her eyes.

The next thing she saw was the inside of a C-Sec holding cell, having acquired a massive headache, and Kalnen loudly snoring across from her. There were six other people in the cell with her not counting her partner in crime, as well as two officers standing outside of it, each looking as if they lost a fight against a trash compactor, stains and scrapes on their armor. She put a hand on her head as the pain spiked, reminding her why she tried avoiding overdrinking as much as possible. _Oh goddess, that's a hangover. How long was I out?_

Deciding to get an answer to the question, she asked one of the guards, an asari to her relief, not even surprised at how groggy she sounded. "Hey, how long have I been in here?"

"You were dragged in half an hour ago as part of a bar fight-turned-riot, we've given everyone involved a shot to purge the alcohol from their systems."

"I take it you were one of the officers to pick us up?"

"You could say that. By the way, thanks for grabbing my ass and telling me 'it looks great even in uniform', I'll be sure to mention it to my batarian bondmate when I get off duty tonight. It might even get a laugh out of him before he tries to see if he can legally hunt down and kill you." _*siiigghhhhhh* If this ever makes it back to Veya, I won't get any sex for the rest of the year. I officially hate my life right now._

That's when Kalnen woke up, making the same movement she did, clutching his head in pain. She chuckled when she saw it, but stopped when another spike hit her, now doing the same thing he was. He looked up at her after hearing the short-lived chuckle, still holding his head. "How long?"

"According to the wonderful officer over there, we've been in here for half an hour."

"The last thing I remember was that bouncer starting the story about how he lost the front knuckle of one of his fingers to a rachni warrior."

"That was the first one he told. The one after that was the one where he charged an asari filled trench during the rebellions and fought some commando to a standstill, having to retreat when they got reinforcements. Then he told the story of how he killed a rachni queen by literally stomping her to death after being forced to take her on alone. You don't remember any of that?"

"Not a bit. You gotten in contact with you-know-who yet?"

She cringed when he said it, already imagining how that conversation would end up going after they trusted her to handle herself, never mind Kalnen. _They'll never leave me alone like this again for as long as I live, I'm sure of it. Why couldn't those fucking reapers have invented a time machine or something useful like that? Noooo, they had to focus on how to destroy the galaxy more efficiently instead! What a great way to waste a billion years! Ow, ow, ow, there's that damn hangover again!_

"No, I haven't been able to talk to them yet. Although now that you mention it; hey, I'm allowed a call, right?" She asked the other officer, a male quarian, not willing to cause more trouble by asking the asari.

"You're allowed to make one, yes, but only a single prisoner at a time can do it."

"So can I make it right now?"

He glanced at the other officer and she sighed, giving him a slight nod. He walked up the to the cell door, as they were in a simple yet effective one with solid metal walls in every direction except the front, which had bars thick enough that even a rampaging elcor would have trouble bending them, and opened it, stepping aside so she could come out. "Just make it quick; my shift ends in twenty minutes, and I still need to clean myself off from when your turian friend soaked me with some brandy."

Her eyebrows shot up involuntarily when he said it, making her look at Kalnen with newfound respect. _Would you look at that, pointy has a backbone after all! Has some mad scientist finally made flying varren? Is water no longer wet?_

She shook her head in amusement, wondering if the universe was coming to an end, then stopped as she remembered there was a very good chance it would, her expression darkening without any input on her part.

"Don't worry, I won't keep you waiting." She finally said, walking down the hallway to what she recognized as a communications booth. Before she got there, both her attention and the quarian's were grabbed by a holomonitor, the words 'BREAKING NEWS: Councilor attacked!' plastered on the bottom of the screen in the primary language of every Citadel species. _"-an say this with certainty: the krogan involved may have been hostile, but were only meant to take the blame for it. Those behind it were without a doubt not krogan themselves, as the organization and planning shown was from anything but their kind."_

_"It was reported there were six C-Sec officers with you when you were last seen. What happened to them?"_ Asked a female turian, from what she could tell by the voice.

_"All but one were killed during the attack."_ he paused to let it sink in_ "As for more information on how they died, you'll have to wait for C-Sec to conclude it's investigation."_

_"A follow-up question to that. If only one survived, then who are the two people behind you? I've heard the same reports regarding the officers escorting you, but none of them were asari, and he isn't wearing a C-Sec uniform."_ Asked an asari.

_"I'm sorry, but at this time I can't answer-"_ He didn't finish, a very familiar 'turian' in grey armor, with what looked like an orange camo pattern having been added since she last saw him, tapping his shoulder. _Well, well, what have you gotten yourself into this time, trigger-happy?_

He whispered something low enough for no one else to hear, soon followed by the Councilor doing the same, before he stepped to the front, now the center of attention.

_"My name is Captain Primus Meldos, the asari on my right is an acquaintance of mine by the name of Cerhn Perdweigh. I was on leave before all this happened and asked to meet her here on the Citadel-"_

* * *

_"-on the Citadel to catch up with each other. We were traveling through the Presidium when the Councilor came under attack. As we both have extensive knowledge in the use of various weaponry, we aided him against the assailants, holding them off until Executor Maxilian of C-Sec arrived with reinforcements." _

_Knew it was a good idea not to accept that job. Those thickheaded fools honestly thought they could get away with trying to kill a Councilor? Just goes to show why the Blood Pack is having so much trouble expanding their ranks: everyone that joins is a complete idiot._

_"I can't help but notice what's covering your armor. What lead to that much krogan blood getting on you?"_ Asked a batarian, a female if the pitch was anything to go by, drawing his full attention to the screen behind the travel counter, as he was just listening to it before.

_"During the attack, I was forced to engage one of the krogan in close quarters. I managed to gain the upper hand, and killed him with his own weapon soon after."_ it was then he saw the blade attached to the turian's waist, the krogan made sheathe proving what he said to be true _"I was underneath him at the time, so I could not avoid the result of how he died."_

_Wait a second, wasn't he that turian from the elevator? Yeah, that asari's still there with him. So he actually gutted one of them with their own knife? Impressive, for an alien at least._

_"At last, a turian that manages to look attractive to my kind."_ Said the batarian.

_"You said you managed to win against a krogan in melee combat. How? Have you received special training?"_ Asked a salarian.

_"I'm sorry, but that's all the time for questions we have at the moment. I'll hold a press conference five hours from now, at fifteen-hundred Galactic Standard Time, if you have any more."_ Said the Councilor, before the news feed cut back to the regular broadcast, the two salarian hosts talking about nothing but any and all information that they knew of regarding the attack. It was then that the next person in line finally finished, letting him walk up to the counter, the salarian on the other side eyeing him warily.

"May I help you?"

"I want a one-way ticket to Illium."

"The nature of this trip?"

"Business."

The frog narrowed his eyes, probably unsatisfied with the answer, not that he cared. "Very well. I need your name for the passenger registry."

"Urdnot Wrex."

He entered it in, speaking up in false sincerity after he did. "That was everything necessary. I hope you have a pleasant journey, and thank you for travelling with us."

He grunted in response, ignoring the man's attitude entirely. _Business indeed. One asari bitch wants another asari bitch dead so she can take over their company. Not that I'm interested in the reason behind it; anything's better than staying on Tuchanka after that bastard of a father broke one of the few traditions every krogan holds sacred. I might return there one day, but for now, the krogan race can take care of themselves, because I have work to do._

* * *

**So yeah, that happened. I don't think I need to tell any of you this, but suffice to say, any mercy or hesitation Premalon and Ocean may have had at one point in time went out the door during their reaper war; resulting in the brutal, if effective, style of combat they both prefer. It's…..not pretty to say the least. In more pleasant news, Wrex has made his first real appearance! He won't be interacting with the cast overly much for now, but the fact he's already met them could lead to all sorts of shenanigans in the future.**

**I sometimes have too much fun making Valora scenes, she's just the perfect troublemaker whenever I want something hilarious to happen. The bar fight was even more enjoyable to make than the actual fight, giving me a chance to show off the Sederis family insanity at it's finest. And to think she wasn't part of the original group I had in mind that would form around Premalon; in fact, if I followed the original guidelines, she wouldn't even exist in the fic! Yet now she's one of my favorite characters to write for. It's weird how things can work out that way, wouldn't you agree?**

**Also, yes, trigger-happy is the nickname Valora has decided to use for Premalon, with nightlight for Ocean, and, obviously, pointy for Setherus. Not every character she meets will get one, but I do intend for quite a few of them to be graced with her magnificent naming abilities. Why are you laughing?**

**I know I don't really ask this much, but please review! I will always respond, even if it's just a single word, and as I'm sure my regular reviewers have found out, there's a good chance I may add in pieces to the story if you say something that manages to interest me enough. Wrex getting a cameo last chapter was inspired by a reviewer, and it led to me adding in this final section here. The Ensign section of chapter 11 was also inspired by a reviewer, at least parts of it anyway, and it was a review from two chapter before it. The point I'm trying to make is that you, the audience, can change the direction the story takes, sometimes a little, sometimes a lot, just by spending the time to write down what you'd like to see in the future. It both improves the quality of my work, and encourages me to put more effort into this whenever I see a new one get posted, so I can't wait to see if anyone has ideas about what Premalon could do throughout the millennia he has to prepare.**

**As always, it's been fun writing this out. I hope you enjoyed and I'll see you next time!**


	14. Chapter 14

*****The Broken Reaper*****

**Chapter 14: Awakening: Guardian**

* * *

**AN: Wait, so with that last chapter this reached 100k words? Nice! And I also just found out I fricked up with even having Illium in the story this early on, as it was officially founded in 1617 according to canon, so yeah…..oops. *whistles a song in an attempt to distract you from the mistake* I blame it on not having played ME2 in a couple years (although I did just finish replaying ME1, and right on time for the events I have planned). Well anyway, author mishaps aside, time for reviews.**

**Tom712: I'll convince you yet, just watch! You'll have no other choice but to make a cameo for each and every character from canon! MUAHAHAHA! Yeah, I'm perfectly normal; why do you ask?**

**fredih: Tell me about it. Remember how I said I just started a new playthrough? Firsthand experience in action. As for the rest, it's covered here, so have fun!**

**Prometheus-777: Oof. You're not making these responses any easier, you know that? Laziness on my part aside, here we go. About the Catalyst, pretty much the first one, and I can't wait for them to finally meet either (although I have no idea as to how considering how reclusive it is). I honestly didn't intend for Campascus to come off like how you describe him, but from a certain point of view, I suppose I can see why it seems that's how he acts. To put it another way: if you think that's his personality, then depending on how you look at it, you're right, so thanks for the slight inspiration for part of his description in the chapter. Yes, most turians, as I tried pointing out, have a very no-nonsense view of justice. If you commit a crime, you'll get the punishment for that crime, with no exceptions made for who you are. Naturally this is just the stereotype, but it's close enough to the real thing to be accurate. Glad you enjoyed the war story; once I got into the mindset of an old, grizzled veteran, the rest wrote itself. The reason there haven't been any female krogan shown is the same reason as in canon: they are jealousy guarded by their male counterparts, especially those on Tuchanka, so it's rare for any to explore the galaxy. Yup, I'm really like that in real life. My Dad's always had a good sense of humor/sarcasm, and he picked it up from his own, so it tends to run in the family. I won't say much regarding the Collectors, but this I will say: don't expect them to make it to modern times, at least not in the way we know of them from the games. There won't be a human reaper because of it, but that doesn't mean said reaper is the only one they could find in the galaxy at large. *foreshadowing intensifies* Also, in relation to the idea you had about the human reaper treating Premalon and Ocean in the way you described: congratulations on inspiring me to add in a future character for when we get to the Shepard era. I won't say who, considering they'll be an OC of sorts, just with an emphasis on the 'of sorts' part. They aren't anyone from canon, but they are going to be related to someone that technically speaking can't have family, said someone we first meet near the beginning of ME2 (not Miranda btw, but if you guess right, I'll tell you.). No worries about them moving into the Terminus. I have plans for how that'll happen. *grins deviously* One last thing. I finally took your advice (sort of) when it came to that news segment of chapter 11, and the turian general now has a documentary about the krogan rebellions under his belt. Keep being awesome!**

**NoveSaber: Hehehehe, glad you liked. Once I started writing, the work did itself, which made it a lot easier than expected. Our pair of Reaper's gotta do what they do best; that of course means shredding through anything in front of them with extreme prejudice.**

**Blaze1992: First let me say, thanks for the review! You raise several good points, which I will try to explain as best I can in this response. They don't know for sure, but considering what they do know, they assume it won't happen. Whether or not it does remains to be seen. I had a massive section written out to explain this next bit, but then I remembered something: the part you had in mind was from Setherus' POV, and it was a perfect example of an unreliable narrator. Maybe Premalon did plan on making a slave army, or maybe he planned to use them as sources of information on what, to him, is a completely new galaxy. Either way, Setherus couldn't have known, so he assumed it was the former, and he may or may not have been right. As for the next question, they don't have an unlimited supply of building material, so no husk army for now. No clones either, as that tech is limited to copying body parts, not the body itself, and they currently don't have the ability to grow proper clones like Harbinger does with the Collectors. Premalon's original body was an exception to this rule, but it used up far more material than acceptable to make because of it's complexity and being made from scratch, considering the other infiltrators provided most of the material needed to build them during their conversion, and even then, I put an emphasis on most. As they've been sitting on Jartar for the majority of that billion year period of existence, they don't have access to all of the countless cycle's species. That doesn't mean they can't use what they already have, as the ship was around for quite a few cycles of it's own before being brought down, they just don't have anything recent is all. Now that you mention it though, I could have them start up production of any number of freakishly OP (and in some cases just plain freakish) husks from the small army onboard Retribution; they just can't and won't for right now, due to previously mentioned reasons about limited materials (thanks for reminding me of this being a possibility though; feel free to describe a husk race you'd like to see them use once they get access to more resources). I would say more, but I'm already way past my limit for response length, so you'll just have to read to find out.**

**Yikes! The response section is my longest one yet, never mind how long the bottom AN is going to be. Sorry if you guys don't like reading them, I just had a lot to mention/talk about this time around. As this is going to be a fairly important turning point in the fic, and considering it was an absolute monster to write (over 12k words including the AN's, likely to remain my longest chapter for quite some time), I'm going to have four POV's.**

**Just a heads up: this is going to mark a major divergence from canon, starting small and getting larger with time, and will result in a butterfly effect of epic proportions because of it. I've been planning this chapter, as well as the next several, for a while now, so I hope it comes off as interesting to read. The offer Premalon is about to receive might seem unrealistic at first, but I can explain it as the one making the proposal being a firm believer of 'trusting your gut'. That, plus the reasoning he gives down below; so without further ado, I give you chapter 14.**

* * *

**Two hours later, Executors office.**

"Did you want to know anything else?" He asked the Councilor, the other man sighing tiredly before he responded. They had gone over everything even remotely related to Reapers, and the Councilor stopped having the energy to be shocked an hour ago, meaning the conversation went by smoothly, eventually covering what happened after the Predator was destroyed all the way up to the station encounter. He didn't hold anything back, figuring the best option would be blunt honesty, having learned enough about turian culture to have a general idea on how to talk to one.

"No, you've told me everything I can think of. After I get a few hours rest in here, I'll hold that press conference. Are you sure it wouldn't be better to inform the public about all this?"

"Absolutely. Think about it: you were just attacked, very little information has been given out aside from the fact you're still alive and unharmed, and quite a few news channels want to know if it affected you in some other way. What do you think they'd say if you told them about a race of billion-year-old super AI intent on galactic destruction? Especially if they found out you got the knowledge from one of said super AI? At best, they wouldn't believe you, and soon enough a new Councilor will take your place. At worst, they would believe you, and my ship, for lack of a better word, would be hunted down and destroyed out of fear, and call me selfish but I refuse to be killed a second time without a fight. People like the status quo, and will more often than not refuse to believe something can change it, or if they think it can, do anything in their power to keep it."

"Alright, you made your point. What about the other Councilors then?"

"I haven't met them, so I wouldn't know. What do you think would be their response? Even with all that I just showed you?"

He took several seconds to think about it, putting his face in his hands when he finally replied. "T'Loris would assume it was the result of a particularly good imagination combined with falsified evidence, and Bezom would say the same thing; only to attempt to locate your ship and try to destroy it covertly, so the Union could advance itself centuries, or even millennia ahead of everyone else."

"There's your answer then. What about the fleet searching through Hades Gamma? I can't move Retribution outside of it as long as the cluster is blockaded."

"That would require I inform the Primarch of Palaven about your arrival and subsequent meeting with me, if you want it done immediately at least." _So that's not really an option for now. Hmm._

"How long would I have to wait otherwise?"

"Last I was told, anywhere between two and four weeks. After finding the survivors from the Predator, especially the two that were in the same escape pod as you, the search was extended to account for the time it would take to locate that old recon outpost, as it was recorded as being destroyed by an asteroid strike over thirty years ago." _Well, at least Viesranus and Perrilen were recovered. Guess it was a good thing we cleaned out that station before we left for the relay._

"Maybe someday I'll approach the heads of state for the various species of this time period, but for now, I'll work solely with you. As for the abandoned station, I can help out in that regard."

"How?"

"All it would take is an anonymous message with the coordinates for the outpost to make it's way to a random captain in the fleet, and they'll never be the wiser."

"And I assume you won't be including what really happened to the missing cruiser?"

"A terrible failure in the vessel's safety mechanics resulted in a torpedo detonating internally, setting off a chain reaction in the rest of the accompanying warheads, sadly leaving next to no trace of it. Will that satisfy anyone that asks?"

A distracted, or possibly exhausted, nod was the first answer he was given, soon followed by the actual one. "It's not the first time an accident like that has occurred, but that still leaves the final problem: the batarian cruiser. How do you explain it disappearing, only to show up completely empty and lacking it's engines?"

"A mystery we may never know the answer to, just like how we may never know what happened to the 'super-dreadnaught of Jartar'." He said in a deadpan voice, making the other man slowly shake his head.

"Several of those 'news channels' you mentioned are calling it the 'Leviathan of Dis' now. I suppose 'super-dreadnaught' wasn't catchy enough for them." he couldn't stop one of his eyes from rapidly twitching upon hearing it, causing Campascus to raise his hands in an appeasing gesture when he noticed "It's not my fault they don't know the implications of the name. Seeing as they can't be told what 'Leviathans' truly are, I'm afraid you'll just have to live with it."

He took the time to calm down, less than a second in reality, speaking up after he did. "I suppose you're right. If that was everything, you'll have to excuse me, because I have some work to do. There's a broker to catch after all."

"Wait, so you really do intend to track them down?"

"Yes, why?"

"You're completely underprepared to find someone like that, incredible technology or not. The galaxy is a big place, with countless planets, ships, and stations to hide on. Unless you have very good connections, you won't get anywhere no matter how hard you try."

"We found her once, we can do it again."

"Yes, you did find her once. But only once. Do you think they'd be so foolish as to repeat that mistake? And couldn't they have altered their appearance by now? It's not exactly hard to do thanks to modern medicine, especially considering the asari mastered cosmetic surgeries to the point of being able to change skin color if they want to. It may not cheap, but it's by no means impossible."

He opened his mouth to respond, only to close it with a 'click' when he realized the turian was right. _The power of a Reaper or not, even Orchestra can't find someone without knowing what they look like, and I doubt the asari would risk exposing herself for now; probably working through intermediaries instead of giving the orders personally. Not even counting all that, Ocean did say it was pure luck we managed to get that much in the first place, and the broker has probably already left the Citadel. I know I would if I was given four days of preparation. I wonder where Campascus could be headed with this though?_

"What did you have in mind?" He asked, now curious about the reason behind the sudden shift in conversation.

"I've been trying to convince the Primarchs to form an additional branch of the military to be a sort of turian STG, but I can't get any support. I respect them on a personal level, but most don't recognize the position the Hierarchy is in; hell, some of them would probably welcome it! At our current rate, within less than a century, we'll become completely reliant on the other two Council races for everything not related to combat. The market for basic consumer products like cars, clothing, and cheap household items has been steadily taken over by salarian businesses, and asari owned ones are dominating the technological field, with weapons and armor production being our only advantage. I can't do anything about that, and until now, I was afraid we'd be forced to keep using the frog's STG and the asari Commandos for information gathering, leaving us blinded in any war without their support. Blackwatch makes for excellent shock troops and wetwork teams, but an intelligence service they are not, even if they often get used like one. That's where you and your 'special nature' come in. You can form an unofficial branch with no ties to the Hierarchy, with the ability to do everything necessary to protect it, including prepare for the coming war, plus help you in locating this Shadow Broker in the process. Naturally I can't force you to do any of that, but just know that I wouldn't ask for anything unless it was absolutely important, and having me on your side would be far more worth it in the long run."

"We've only spoken to each other twice now, and already you're asking me if I want to lead some secret agency you've had in mind? Why the depths do you think that's a good idea?" He asked in confusion.

The Councilor looked him in the eyes, the man's own no longer seeming tired as they became dead serious. "I've been on this station for nine years now, and do you want to know what I've come to learn in that time? Almost every single person living here is trying to hide something. It might be advertised as the 'center of the civilized galaxy', but this place holds far too many secrets for me to form any real trust with it's inhabitants. Yet here you come along out of nowhere, someone I've talked to only once before, and on your first day here you save my life, inform me of an eons old pattern of galactic genocide, and after that tell me about your own long dead people, something which I'm sure is deeply personal to you. For that, you've earned more than enough respect in my book, and from what I can tell, you have the right characteristics for the job. According to what you've told me, you have the leadership experience necessary, can change faces and even bodies at will, anything with programming involved in it's creation you can control if given enough time, and countless other reasons. The most important however, for me at least, is that you could've just lied to me about who you actually were, but instead you chose to tell me the first chance you had; making you as trustworthy as any real turian I can find on this station as far as I'm concerned."

When the Councilor finished, he didn't manage to keep his brow-plates from raising in surprise, not expecting any of it in the slightest. "I'm honored and all, but that still doesn't explain why you're so adamant for it to be me over someone from your own people. I'm sure there are more than a few capable of filling the role."

The man's eyes lost their seriousness and gained their previous tired look, his head turning around to view the scenery outside the office's patio, flanging voice tinged with regret and sadness. "I'll be honest with you; I don't really have a choice. Because of the fact no Primarch is willing to endorse the formation of an agency, I can't get any headway within the Hierarchy, but I refuse to back down from it all the same. However, if today has proven anything to me, it's that I won't be Councilor forever, and I doubt my eventual successor will be all that concerned about any of this. The odds of a self-sufficient and independent turian race look worse with every year that goes by. I might be able to do something about it from here, but I hold no real power in my own government, and in the end I'm just one man. Perhaps this won't change the course we're headed to as a society, but I can hope, can't I?"

"Hope is often the only thing that can keep you going; it provides a lifeline even if there's nothing left in you aside from it." He quoted in a somber tone, remembering a saying from one of the first friends he made after the beginning of the war.

"Wise words indeed. Whose were they?"

He shook his head, trying to clear the memories of the distant past. "Someone who's long since been laid to rest." he took a deep breath, even though he didn't need to, before continuing "Very well, you'll get your agency. What's it going to be called?"

Campascus opened his omni-tool, sending him a message that he read parts of even before his own lit up with an alert, having complete access to everything technological in the room thanks to the hacking device Ocean used to clear the area of any unwanted listeners. Rather than tell the other man that, he opened his own omni-tool, tilting his head in practiced confusion when he saw the label for it. "Antrafell? Where'd you get it from?"

"It's a legend I learned during my childhood. It comes from an ancient turian religion that tells of mysterious guardians that watch over and protect the land of paradise where the dead reside, and in time of need, defend the world of the living as well, from those that seek to destroy them both. Each year they would choose the strongest and most honorable souls of those that die to join their number, as the oldest of the warriors would then be allowed to enter into the land they fought so long to protect, finally to lay down their swords and join the rest of the dead in eternal peace. In fact, guardian used to be written as antrafell in many long dead turian dialects before we settled planets outside our home system. A fitting name, wouldn't you agree?"

He couldn't help the small smile that appeared on his face, making a similar one form on the Councilor's, before giving his response. "I think I can come to appreciate it in time. Besides, it's not every day I get an offer to become part of a legend."

They both let out a light chuckle at his statement, quieting down before too long. "One last thing before you go. I'm going to get in contact with 'your' superiors about a promotion. Seeing as it's been over four years since 'you' were made a captain, and considering the events of today, I have a feeling you'll be 'Major Meldos' the next time we meet. And do be sure to read over the contents of that message; I had to use quite a few favors to make it all possible in the first place."

"Don't worry, I'll go through it out as soon as I can." He replied as he started to walk out, only to stop when the Councilor held his arm out to him. Knowing what he meant by it, he grabbed it, shaking it firmly. The turian gave him a satisfied nod once he did, searching for and finding a small reclining chair in the room, while he left the man to his no doubt beloved sleep. After walking down the steps leading to the Embassy reception area, he followed the path he first took to arrive at the Presidium, heading to a nearby elevator, knowing it was the same one he used before. Once he was on it, he didn't immediately select a floor, content to use it for the privacy it offered. _Time to take a closer look at what's in this. Let's see here; a patrol group's worth of old frigates left in dry-dock for 'retrofits' and a 'faulty' cruiser getting 'repaired' for use as the fleet arm, including a list of semi-retired turian naval personnel willing to crew them if asked, open access to Pinnacle Station both for agents to hone their skills and possible recruitment options from the Blackwatch members training there, a list of retirees that might be convinced to sign up with us if given a good enough offer, a steady income for the organization thanks to the partial ownership of a small turian security firm called Elanus Risk Control, and all this without officially being part of the Hierarchy. Looks like Campascus was telling the truth about using those favors to start this little initiative. So that's the emblem? A vague, silver-grey turian figure, holding a longsword in front of it using both hands, the grip the same shade of silver, but the blade itself stained the blue of their kind's blood, with the tip resting on the 'ground', both the sword and it's wielder outlined in solid black. Not really my style, but I can see it growing on me. What's this, a message from Campascus? 'If possible, I'd like for you to help C-Sec investigate whoever's behind the attack, starting with finding out who that sniper was. Think of it as a trial run to see if you'd be willing to do more missions like this in the future. Should you agree, I'll inform the Executor to let you in on any new information C-Sec finds, and I hope you'll do the same in turn. Lastly, if we're to continue this for any length of time, please keep from mentioning me to any agents or members the organization may have joining it in the future. Naturally, I won't mention you either, as should this get out, the results would be anything but good for both of us. With respect from one leader to another, Councilor Herieus Campascus.' Guess his kind really do value honesty. Suppose I should send a nice and simple reply. 'I accept.' I've already agreed to everything else, so no point in turning this down. Antrafell, 'mysterious guardians of both the living and the dead'. If it wasn't so accurate, I'd probably find it funny. I wonder how the others are going to react to this? Well, no point in delaying it any longer. Ocean, were you able to get them out?_

* * *

_**One hour and eighty minutes earlier, C-Sec Academy.**_

"Is there something I can help you with?" Asked the salarian officer at the information counter, busy with something on the screen in front of him.

"Yes, is this where you pay bail? A couple friends of mine were involved in a bar fight and got in touch with me about it." She said, trying to sound as polite as possible. He only nodded, no doubt having gone through something like this before.

"You can do so here, as well as at the C-Sec precinct they are being held at. Due to the repetitive nature of such a disturbance, unless serious injury or death takes place during the event, as long as you pay the fine, the being in question will not have a permanent record because of it. If you have the funds available I can-" he finally looked up at her, large eyes widening when he examined her face "Your name wouldn't be Cerhn Perdweigh, would it?"

_How could he…oh right, the news broadcasts playing on practically every screen on the station. _"That's me. To be honest, I'm surprised you recognized who I am, considering I didn't say anything during that broadcast."

"All salarians have a photographic memory. Is it true just the three of you held off four times as many krogan?" He said in barely concealed excitement, showing if anything that he was young for a member of his species. It wouldn't have been a problem normally, but it was attracting the attention of several nearby officers, and she could see them bringing up their omni-tools to try and confirm it by watching the relatively short clip of the recording that she was in. _Well crap, looks like we're going to be famous now. Here's hoping this won't come back to bite us later._

"Only for around a minute before the Executor arrived with an entire riot squad, but yes, we did. Why, is that considered impressive?" She asked, unsure of how to react.

"Impressive? A single krogan in a bloodrage has been known to take on entire squads before being put down! I know asari Commandos have a reputation for winning battles even if outnumbered ten to one, but I always believed it to be simple exaggeration. Did you learn how to fight their kind in the Rebellions?"

She chuckled nervously, searching for the right words to use. "Well, no, but let's just say I have previous experience in fighting with the odds not in my favor. If it's ok with you, could I pay the fine now?"

He blinked several times, eventually stopping and clearing his throat in obvious embarrassment. "Oh. Right. Apologies for all that. If you could give me their names?"

"Valesra S'Leris and Sethalis Kalenus."

He entered them in, speaking up after he did, causing a sinking feeling to form in her technically non-existent stomach. "I have them here. It seems they both assaulted an officer attempting to subdue them. No serious injuries were sustained by either party, but according to regulations, because of this the fines have been tripled to discourage them from repeating it in the future."

"How much is this going to run me then?" She asked with a small amount of dread at the possibility of draining her still brand-new bank account.

"Normally they would be fifteen thousand each." He said. After spending barely a microsecond to do the math, she winced, the salarian giving her what had to have been his kind's version of a pitying smile when he noticed it. _If those two think this is the last they'll ever hear of this, they're in for a rude awakening! I mean sure, I'll be able to replenish it in a few days if I do it discreetly, but it's the principle of the thing that matters!_

* * *

_**One hour and seventy minutes later, C-Sec offices, Zakera Ward.**_

She finally went through the last bit of 'paperwork' required to secure their release, mildly confused as to why such a thing would still be called paperwork when next to no one used the substance anymore, but brushed it off as just another aspect of the time period. She was talking to the Captain in charge of Zakera Ward, a batarian man in whatever the equivalent of not-quite-old for his species was, because he needed to sign off on any prisoner release for the section of the Citadel under his authority. "That was everything needed. Did you want them brought out now, Sir?"

She blinked in confusion at that, wondering if he was speaking to someone else. After a quick glance behind her, she concluded he wasn't. "Were you talking to me?"

"Ah, so you prefer female pronouns." this only caused her to become even more confused, which he managed to pick up on, raising a double eyebrow in a similar motion to those with only one set of eyes "Several asari officers in my division refer to each other as 'he' and 'him'. Of course this can probably be attributed to having batarian fathers, Zakera is where the majority of my kind live on the Citadel after all, and we are a very patriarchal people. Isn't this common knowledge among you asari?"

_Wait, didn't their codex say something along those lines? I should look it up. _She spent an entire second doing just that. _Huh, so they actually do that sometimes. Strange considering all asari can give birth to children, but I guess for them it's a cultural thing. Mono-gendered species are weird. Well, time to put that background I made to good use. Here's hoping it sounds convincing. _"Dad was a salarian, and mom didn't exactly spend much time educating me about that sort of thing when she was too busy shaking her ass on stage. Left the house when I was 64, never looked back."

He shrugged, and while it seemed like he wasn't paying attention, she could tell he was by how his lips curled slightly downward at their edges. _Looks like it needs some work. Oh well, better to learn it now than later I suppose._

"Forget I mentioned it. So, did you want them now, Miss…." he took a second glance at the screen in front of him, raising a double eyebrow once more "Perdweigh was it? This is unimportant to what you're here for, but do you happen to be related to a Cerhn Perdweigh?"

_Oh joy, here we go again. This is going to get awkward fast. _"She and I are one and the same. I'm surprised it didn't mention my first name there."

He gave a brief nod, as if he expected the answer. "It does, I just wanted to make sure. So you're one of the 'Two Saviors'? Looks like I'll have something to tell my grandchildren about the next time I see them."

"Oh dar-" she cut herself off as she realized what she was about to say, and continued on a quarter second later, channeling her inner Valora, having picked up more than enough just by living with the foul-mouthed asari for several days in a row "goddess dammit, is that really what they're calling us now?"

If he noticed the minor change in wording, he didn't show it, instead gesturing to a screen with the familiar red lettering of the Citadel News Network, with the headline at the bottom reading 'Just who are the Two Saviors, and what do we know about them?' It caused her to let out a deep sigh, muttering what she said next. "The least those morons could do is get our input on it. I mean even 'The Dynamic Duo' would've made more sense than that."

The batarian snorted when he heard her, his four nostrils making it louder than what she was used to. "What's so funny?"

"My children used to watch a vid series who's main characters were called that. I forget it's name, but the 'action scenes' were some of the best comedy I ever remember seeing."

"Ok, so that's not available. Still, they should at least try a little harder!" she shook her head, focusing on the reason she was there in the first place "To answer your question, have them brought out now, I'll wait."

"Of course." he pressed a button on his desk, no longer speaking to her "Officer D'Naava, bring out an asari and turian by the name of Valesra S'Leris and Sethalis Kalenus. They've just been paid for."

"_With pleasure, Sir." _Replied an asari, sounding relieved for some reason, and from the way the Captain blinked his eyes in a sequence starting with the bottom left and going to the top left, top right, then bottom right, she wasn't the only one to notice it.

"Is there something wrong?" He asked her.

"_Nothing wrong, no Sir. It's just that S'Leris stopped talking to the other prisoners in the cell an hour ago, and started admiring my 'assets' instead. It's getting a little uncomfortable." _Ocean didn't manage to keep a snort from making it out, the batarian tilting his head in a questioning manner. _That's Valora alright. Can't keep her eyes above the neckline of anything even vaguely resembling a female for longer than ten minutes. I wonder if she's only attracted to asari and aliens that look like them, or if she'll go after one of the other races if given the opportunity? Not important right now I suppose._

"Sorry, it's just that it sounds like something she would do."

"Ah." was all he said, as if it explained everything he needed to know "Carry on, D'Naava."

A quick 'yessir' is all he got before he took his finger off the button, both of them waiting for the pair of troublemakers to come out. When they did, it was in omni-cuffs, and rather than scold them or be angry at them or even be happy, she leveled an icy glare at the two, no emotion showing beside it. Judging by how they nervously shifted their feet, it worked, and they apparently found an interesting spot to look at on the wall off to her right.

"90,000 credits." that made them look back at her in confusion "It cost me 90,000 credits to get you two out, and if you think I'm not going to get that money back one way or another, you're still under the influence of whatever it was you drank that started this mess." Valora gulped, while Setherus visibly paled, no doubt afraid for his minuscule savings, almost managing to break her cold façade with their reactions. _Ohoho this is good stuff. Gotta love how I'm always recording everything I see, because this is going in the 'vids to watch when bored' section. It's nice having effectively unlimited digital storage space._

"Good to see you too, 'Cerhn'." Said Valora, fidgeting with her wrists after the cuffs were taken off by the asari officer, now with two sets of glares being sent her direction, the officer adding in her own from where she stood to the side of the group, her armor covered in various scuff marks.

"Was that all you needed?" Asked the batarian Captain.

"Yes it was. Thank you for being so helpful, Captain….I can't believe I never asked, but what's your name?" She said pleasantly, going out of her way to treat him warmly in comparison to the pair of misfits, who were watching the change in personality with wide-open mouths.

"Captain Balak, but you can just call me Captain; Balak is a very common batarian family name. I know of two other Balak's in C-Sec alone, and they aren't related to me in the slightest."

"I'll remember that. In the meantime, don't think I've forgotten you two. I have the pleasure of explaining the basic rules on how to act when we have downtime, and you'll listen and abide by them, understood? Now come on, we can continue this at a restaurant, and I expect you to pay for your own meals." She switched back to what she decided would be called her 'ice queen mode', making them both blink repeatedly before they followed her out. _You know, I just realized something: that was perhaps the most polite batarian I've met so far. Now granted, my previous experiences were with the rather angry and at times terrified crew of the Disciple, but it's nice to know that not all of them will threaten me with either excruciating pain, or a slow death at the hands of the Hegemony five seconds into a conversation._

When they came to a rapid transit terminal, she dropped the act, guffawing at the entire thing. Setherus looked completely lost, but Valora caught on quick, scowling at her. "You utter bitch! All that talk of 'rules' and how you're 'going to get that money back' was just your way of toying with us!"

The turian present squinted his eyes, finally putting two and two together, and scowled himself after he did. She spoke up in-between chortles, feeling like the 90k was well spent. "You should've seen your faces! Priceless! Absolutely, completely, priceless!"

She kept laughing until the aircar landed in front of them, changing it to intermittent chuckles whenever she reviewed the recording in her mind, with the other two occasionally grumbling various expletives that sounded remarkably similar to 'damn space squid' and other, less pleasant ones. They climbed into the car, as she'd already picked where they were going to eat, the restaurant advertising private rooms available on demand. Not that she believed they were completely private of course, but it was easy enough to ensure such a thing was true for someone like her. The trip went by in silence, her attention now focused on skimming over as many information outlets as possible, to try and find out what was being covered. _Still focusing on nothing but the attack. Oh? Hello, hello, what do we have here? 'Councilor T'Loris could not be located for comment following the attack on her colleague, but her office assures Union General News that she is not in any danger and will be available in time for the planned press conference at fifteen-hundred GST.' Call me paranoid, but that seems remarkably convenient. Let's see what I can find out about the asari._

She started a general search of T'Loris' personal history, finding entire extranet sites dedicated to explaining just who every Councilor is, and what they did before taking the position. _Born and raised on Thessia, both parents were asari belonging to wealthy families, went into interspecies politics over a century ago, which just so happens to be the same time the turians joined the Council, and, of course, has been a model public official ever since. What about the real story behind it? Curiosity may occasionally be bad for your health, but for such a prominent figure, there isn't much said about her private life. Campascus is known for having brief flings with women, Bezom is rumored to be closely related to the current head of the STG, and yet T'Loris has nothing scandalous on her aside from the apparent 'usual' for someone with her position and race. Ok, I have to know: just why is there such a fascination with hanar-asari relationships?_

Deciding to find out, she looked it up, only to stop after just a second of searching, the countless images forever burned into her memory, a slight shiver going up her spine at some of them. _Just why-how-that doesn't even-THAT'S NOT THE INTENDED PURPOSE OF A TENTACLE! *sigh* Well, at least now I know why the turian saying of 'curiosity killed the shathra' exists. What's a shathra anyway? Let's find out. 'A creature native to Palaven, the shathra is a small predatory avian capable of taking flight for short periods of time, and often uses this agility to ambush various rodents and other nuisances. Because of this and how easily domesticated it is, the species has been a house pet of many turian families for thousands of years, serving to keep vermin populations in the stony cities of Palaven at levels so low that seeing a pest on the streets will normally be followed by numerous cleaning efforts to get rid of any infestations. Sadly, due to their dextro biology, it is almost never seen outside turian space; although it's popularity has grown thanks to many quarian families finding them to be enjoyable pets.' Ok, a bit more than I asked for, but not entirely pointless I suppose. Distractions aside, time to get back to digging up T'Loris' buried secrets._

She intended to do just that, only for Hystuss to interrupt. _Ocean, were you able to get them out?_

_I was. Done with your meeting?_

_Indeed I am. Campascus now knows about as much as our two 'associates'._

_Speaking of: did you tell him that he wasn't the only one in the loop?_

_Some things are better left unsaid. Besides, he has enough problems as it stands. I told him we brought them here with us and that they're aware of what I can do with bodies, but aside from that, I didn't mention anything about what they may or may not know._

_You sure that's wise? I thought the tactic you were using was being an open book, telling him everything all at once to make it seem more believable compared to just giving small portions at a time._

_For the most part yes, but you know as well as I do we can't expose every card in our hand right away._

_Trust me, that first round of Five Families taught me that lesson better than I would've liked._

_Still sore about losing?_

She didn't give him an answer, which by itself translated to a silent 'yes', making him chuckle. _I have quite a bit to tell you three when we meet up with each other again. You know of a good place for that to happen?_

_Lucky for you, I have the perfect spot already picked out. We're headed to get some food as we speak, I'll send you the details of where it's located._

_Alright, that works for what I had in mind. See you soon._

_You too. Don't keep me waiting._

_I won't._

She didn't put much thought into how neither of them were being sarcastic with each other at the moment, ending the connection on reflex now that they were done talking, going back to the searches she had running on the Councilor's connections and business relations.

* * *

_**One hour later, private dining area of Platinum Fields, Presidium.**_

"-and now I'm in charge of the currently one-man, or four if I count all of you, intelligence agency Antrafell, with the only thing he wanted on my end being an occasional mission in exchange for his continued support."

"Spirits! I was surprised enough when handless told me about how you two saved the Councilor's life, but for him to thank you by giving you an entire organization?" He said in open shock.

"It's not that big a deal really. I still have to build it up and recruit the members, he just gave me the foundation for it. Still, I'd say today's been a success all around. Not counting the bar incident of course." Premalon finished with an accusing glance at Sederis, making her raise her arms in frustration.

"Oh come on, I wasn't even the one to start that fight! Pointy here is responsible for that shitshow, not me!"

The not-turian turned his head towards him, a brow-plate raised in what seemed like doubt. "Is what she says true?"

_*sigh* No point in lying, not like I know what happened myself. _"I couldn't tell you. I don't remember much of anything because I drank too much before it all started. According to handless and one of the batarians that was in the cell with us, I came rather close to being on the receiving end of an angry krogan, but the bouncer stepped in before it could go further. At least until I apparently threw my drink at the back of his head, which was what set off the entire thing. Like I said though: I don't remember any of it."

Premalon took a second to process it, giving Ocean a chance to speak. "Wait, so you got drunk before she did? Valora, I thought I told you to take care of him!"

Sederis flinched when she said it, trying and failing to look innocent. "Well, I sort of did." Ocean narrowed her eyes, and Premalon followed suit, making the asari clear her throat "What I meant to say is yes, I did. He's still in one piece, isn't he? That should count, especially considering there were a few krogan involved in the fight. In fact, I asked one of our cellmates, and he told me that pointy managed to knock out five batarians all by himself, even though he was barely able to stand thanks to the booze!"

Ocean raised her eyebrows in surprise, while Premalon seemed fairly impressed judging by the approving nod he gave. "Not bad, Setherus. Five against one is no easy feat, drunk or not, and from what I've read batarians have a reputation as excellent fist fighters. A pity no one bothered to record it all."

"Actually, someone did." Ocean said with a face-splitting smile and a distant look in her eyes, and he knew from experience that she was no longer truly in front of them at the moment. A few seconds later a message popped up on his and Sederis' omni-tool's simultaneously, almost immediately followed by Premalon letting out a long laugh, his eyes matching Ocean's in their appearance. _Why do I have the feeling I'm going to regret watching this?_

He ignored his more pessimistic side and shared a look with Sederis, a small nod from the asari all the prompting he needed. As the vid started playing on their wrists, the two semi-living AI started eating the food they ordered, apparently in an internal conversation while they waited, as Ocean cut a small slice from her filet and put it on the other's plate, Premalon doing the same, most likely to compare the taste, both of them having gotten fish for their meals. _I still think it isn't fair that they can eat whatever they want and it'll never affect them. If I handle levo food, I have to wash my hands afterward to keep anything from getting in my mouth, otherwise I end up puking my guts out for the next several hours. Damn flawless space squids and their damn reanimated bodies._

He brought his attention back to the vid just in time to see Sederis riding on top of an elcor like a child that had eaten one too many candies, blinking several times before snickering, while the asari in question was obviously embarrassed at the whole thing, her cheeks turning a shade of violet as she cringed at the recording of herself from just a few hours earlier. It went on to become even more entertaining, if he was a masochist that is, as he did indeed win against five batarians, eventually reaching a peak with the two of them temporarily teaming up to take on an angry krogan, somehow managing to knock the hulking alien out with nothing but a comparatively small bar stool and a large drinking mug, only to turn their respective 'weapons' on each other after they did. Before the fight ended, C-Sec showed up, a familiar pair of officers forcing their way in with shock batons, leaving an assortment of unconscious bodies behind them. That's when the Setherus in the vid discovered his mug miraculously still had liquid in it, splashing it on the quarian officer, drunkenly saying something about 'interrupting our honorable duel', making the current Setherus cringe like Sederis had. _Oh spirits dammit, I used a direct line from the most recent 'Ancient Warrior' episode. I swear on my family's honor, I'm never going to get drunk again for the rest of my life. If I do, I might have a heart attack from the embarrassment alone when I get shown another one of these._

After another minute of them brawling with the unlucky cops, it finally ended with several more officers showing up, the crowd now dispersing as the crackling whines of shock batons scared many of them into running off, and he could see his drooling form being carried out by a pair of them, with his 'opponent' having the same done to her own body. He squeezed the plates covering his nose when it finished, Sederis making a similar movement, and was about to say something when Ocean spoke up, gesturing with a table knife in her hand first to him, then the actual asari in the room, not even looking up from her plate. "I loved the part where you made fun of quarian ancestor worship and insulted the heritage of his species as a whole, only matched by when you had the great idea of trying to sexually harass someone with every legal right to beat the crap out of you. Good thing those batons are meant for harmlessly subduing people instead of knocking them out with brute force, otherwise you'd both probably have more than just a few bruises to show for it."

"Nightlight, how much would it take for this to disappear from the extranet entirely?" Asked Sederis in a serious, if somewhat desperate, tone.

"Why I would never think of doing such a thing! Don't you know that it's illegal to tamper with public records? I could get in serious trouble if anyone found out!" she replied in faux shock, chuckling when Sederis merely glared at her "Oh fine, if it's that much of an issue I'll see what I can do about altering the footage to make it look and sound like those two were completely different people. Just don't expect me to do anything to my personal copy." She said with a sadistic grin, making them both frown.

Rather than respond to it, Premalon cut in, shaking his head in amusement. "With that detour taken care of, time to get down to business. Valora, once we're done eating, you're going to help Ocean find a place for us to live on station for the time being. Setherus, you're coming with me to help recruit a new member for the agency."

He tilted his head in confusion, more at the abrupt decision than anything else, but brushed it off in favor of finding out the reason behind it. "Why would you need me for this? Shouldn't you be the one to do that sort of thing being the director, or whatever your job title is, of the group?"

"I am the commander of it, yes, but I thought it would be more convincing if I wasn't the only person to show up outside their door. I would've just went with Ocean, but I figured that a turian would seem more trustworthy, plus I can indirectly use you to help out with the recruitment."

_I guess that makes sense. Of course, it may just be an excuse to have one of them watching over each of us due to what happened the moment they left us by ourselves. Either way, I can't really blame him for it. Spirits know I wouldn't trust someone to be responsible after seeing them do all that. _"Fine by me. Where do they live?"

"An apartment complex over on-"

* * *

_**Half an hour later, Charming Vista Living Spaces, apartment 184, Bachjret Ward.**_

"_An anonymous source has indicated that members of a small Terminus based mercenary company known as the Blood Pack were the krogan involved in the attack. The Blood Pack have a reputation for engaging in piracy, accepting contracts for nothing more than the promise of violence and bloodshed, and other heinous acts. It is unknown how they were allowed on the Citadel given their group's reputation, but C-Sec has guaranteed us they are investigating the matter. We'll keep you up to date on any new information related to this breaking story. I'm-" _He turned the screen off, not caring about the salarian's name. _Still going on about the same thing. So someone tried killing off Campascus, we get it, you've been covering nothing else for hours now. What about the rest of the news!_

A minute passed, and rather than decide on whether he was going to join Meteia in the shower, the doorbell rang, making him wonder who it could be. He got up from the couch, it creaking slightly as his weight left it, and went over to the door to look at the camera screen on the wall next to it. To say he was surprised at who he saw on the other side was an understatement. _A Palaven-born and a bareface, but not just any bareface. It's hard to forget an armor pattern like that. What would the man that saved the Councilor want with me? I wasn't involved in that whole affair, and I've done nothing noteworthy for the past couple years now._

A dozen different scenarios ran through his head, each one more paranoid than the last, but he dismissed them as fast as they came. _No point in jumping to conclusions until I know why he's here. I doubt it's a coincidence that I'm getting visited like this so soon after it all went down._

He pressed the mic button, speaking into it after he did, not bothering to hide his suspicion. "To what do I owe the pleasure of having a celebrity outside my door? Last I checked I'm not in the Army anymore."

The Palaven-born became guarded and cautious at his statement, whereas the bareface of the pair didn't react at all, his demeanor completely neutral. _I know that look. He's going to make me an offer of some sort, I guarantee it._

"_Lieutenant Drutus Edoraka? I'd like to make you a proposition about joining a new intelligence branch I was just put in charge of." Big surprise, I was right. I haven't heard about anything like this, however. Although, if he's telling me the truth, it does explain why he's here; I'm probably on a list of expendable assets._

"It's former Lieutenant, and if you think I'm going to throw my life away in some operation that's too dangerous for the salarians to handle, you can take your offer and bury it for all I care."

That managed to get a visual reaction from the man, his eyes turning to stare straight at the camera, and a hint of a smile forming from the way his mandibles twitched slightly. _"Nothing like that, I can assure you. I'm not looking for throwaway soldiers, I'm looking for capable men and women who've already seen the worst this galaxy can throw at them. Your file happens to fit that description. I must say, fighting your way to freedom inside a slaver vessel is an impressive feat; and freeing the rest of the slaves, followed by destroying that asteroid base with their own ship? They should've given you a medal for heroism. Instead, they gave you a promotion and an early retirement to satisfy those crying over the slaves killed while engaging their captors. I can't give you that first one, and you already have the second, but I can give you the ability to choose a third option."_

His curiosity was peaked, even if he wasn't going to say so, and he asked the logical question in that scenario. "And this third option would be?"

"_Something that I'm unwilling to share unless we talk to each other face-to-face. To give you a general idea, my 'branch' is completely independent of the Hierarchy's control. Our purpose would be to defend it in ways that might be considered wrong and even illegal at times, but will ensure the stability of turian society for years to come. Interested?"_

He took a few moments to think it over, his curiosity becoming intrigue, and rather than verbally respond, he opened the door and stood off to the side, arms crossed and making his distrust known. "You have five minutes to convince me why I should accept."

Meldos raised his left mandible in a smirk, speaking as the two of them came in. "More than enough time."

As the door hissed shut the one leading to the bathroom opened, reminding him of the fourth person still in the small apartment, the lithe and semi-muscular turian woman wearing nothing but a towel around her waist.

"Drutus, what's with all the-" she almost choked when she saw the other two, immediately coming to attention and saluting crisply "Captain Meldos, Sir!" _*sigh* She's always had problems with hero worship._

The Captain looked oddly concerned for a moment, only to replace it with his previous neutral expression, and calmly asked her a question. "Have I met you before?"

"No, Sir! Sergeant Mateia Habrius, Citadel Defense Fleet Marine detachment! It's an honor to meet you, Sir!" She tapped her spurs together in time with the final 'Sir', very quickly regretting it as the towel fell down after she did, letting him admire the view he still enjoyed even after two years of having first seen it. The one he decided to refer to as Palaven was polite enough to find something interesting to look at on the door they entered through, and Meldos didn't even glance downward, somehow not paying attention to the exposed body literally and metaphorically staring him right in the face. _What, is the man dead? How can you not look at that when an opportunity like this arises!? Heh, speaking of rises._

Mateia stayed frozen in place, still saluting, her eyes wide in shock and her mandibles opening and closing repeatedly, no doubt in an attempt to reboot her similarly frozen brain. Meldos looked down at the towel, _just the towel?! _And said something that shook her from the self-inflicted stupor. "Aren't you going to pick that up?"

She jerkily looked down at it herself, practically yanking it back on and running into the bedroom where she left her clothes several hours earlier, the normally brown scales around her dark grey facial plates now tinted blue. When the bedroom door closed, Palaven turned back around, a little blue himself. _Must still be a kid if that's all it takes for him to get flustered._

"You didn't mention anything about us not being alone." Meldos said, narrowing his eyes.

He shrugged, uncaring about the presumptive tone. "Never told you we were. I'll send her out once she's dressed, she's not going to be involved in this."

The Captain nodded, apparently satisfied with the answer. "Girlfriend?"

"More like a good friend." the other man raised a brow-plate, looking at the bedroom door, then back at him "Ok, so a really good friend…with benefits. Who's he supposed to be?"

Palaven didn't say anything, turning to look at Meldos expectantly, content to let him do the talking. "Ensign Setherus Kalnen. We first met during his training for Blackwatch, his instructor and I were old acquaintances from back when I took my own training, and I've kept in contact with him since. He passed the course with flying colors, but for some reason decided to join the Navy instead, don't ask me why. Noticed you keep looking at that clock over there. How much time do I have left?"

_And here I thought I was being discrete. He's certainly fast on the uptake. _"Four minutes and seventeen seconds."

"Shrewd of you to count the thirty-seven seconds that passed when she came out." Drutus raised one of his own brow-plates, impressed Meldos was able to keep track of it "What I told you outside is technically true, but was far from the full truth. I was being honest about defending the Hierarchy in less than legal ways, however, that's just a side benefit of what our real purpose is. Everything I'm about to mention is classified, and I don't think I need to tell you what would happen should you share this information. You may not know who this is, but an information dealer that refers to themselves as the 'broker in the shadows', or Shadow Broker for short, is the one responsible for that whole mess in the Hades Gamma Cluster. The ship the Ensign here served on found a massive, fully intact Prothean vessel, what's now being called the…..Leviathan of Dis" from the way he ground it out, it seemed like just saying the term upset him for some reason "by the media, and informed Palaven Command of the discovery. Several pieces of functioning technology were brought aboard their ship after investigating it on the ground, and they were ordered to continue their patrol route for the time being. That turned out to be a mistake. Four days ago, they were attacked by three mercenary frigates, and destroyed two of them at the cost of their own ship. He was one of the few to board an escape pod and make it out in time, and if it wasn't for the arrival of a cruiser responding to the distress signal, the chance of his survival would've been practically non-existent. Contrary to what I said on the news, I was on furlough in a nearby system up to this point, and had it cut short due to everything I just mentioned, thanks to being the highest ranking operative in the cluster. When the database on the mercenary frigate was cracked, we discovered the coordinates to an abandoned recon outpost built during the Rebellions, and I led a team that included him aboard a shuttle to investigate, discovering the Broker was the one behind it all when we arrived. While we were doing that, the cruiser went to the Dis system to secure the Prothean vessel, and shortly after it got there we lost all contact. We don't know what happened, but both the cruiser and vessel disappeared entirely, similar to that batarian heavy cruiser that went missing. That's a story for another time, however. What you need to know from this is that I've been given the job of tracking the Shadow Broker down, and because of concerns over several important officials in not just our government, but Council space as a whole, being in their pocket, it was decided a new branch was needed for the purpose of removing them, as well as doing anything else that might lead to backlash against the Hierarchy. My service record, combined with the actions I've taken over the past several days, particularly the one that you already knew of from today, left me as the logical choice to lead it. So, after learning all that, are you willing to join?"

He would freely admit to this not being how he expected it to go, speechless for a longer than comfortable moment. _I mean it's obvious there's more to it than he let on, but still, letting me know all that? Either he's very confident of the odds of me joining, or this is going to become public information soon enough. Why do I have the feeling it's that first one? *sigh* Dammit, I just know I'm going to regret this. At least I'll be back on active duty, even if it's not exactly the same as my old position._

He was about to give Meldos his answer, only to be cut off as the bedroom door slid open, a now fully dressed Mateia coming through it. "I'd like to ask your forgiveness for what happened earlier, Sir. It was completely unintentional on my part."

"No worries, Miss Habrius, I've already forgotten it. If you want to talk to Mister Edoraka here, I can ignore military discipline for the time being."

She relaxed upon hearing the response, moving close enough to Drutus so only the two of them could hear each other. "You going to be busy I take it?"

"In a way. He's offering me a job. Not quite the military, but close enough for it to be tempting, and without many of the problems I had with the former."

She raised both brow-plates in surprise, a happy smile on her face. "No kidding! I told you they wouldn't forget someone with your experience. Want me to leave so you can finish ironing out the details?"

He tilted his head down and let his eyes linger on her hips and waist, sadly covered up at the moment, only for her to put a finger on his chin and tilt it back up to meet her amused gaze. "We can always do that later. Spirits, sometimes I think you're still just as hormonal as a teen in boot camp."

"Right, later. Yeah, you should probably go for now. I'll call you when I'm done here."

"Sounds good. I can't believe how lucky you are to get a job offer from the man that saved Councilor Campascus! I expect to hear the details when I come back." _Unfortunately, even if I was allowed to tell you, you'd probably say something a lot different than that once I did._

Oblivious to his thoughts, he gave a fake smile in response, and they shared a final embrace, her warmth leaving him far too soon for his liking. She was about to open his front door, but before she did, she started fidgeting with her primary fingers, turning to Meldos and asking him something that Drutus could only shake his head at. "If it's not too much trouble, could I have your autograph? I've never really met someone famous like you."

The Captain blinked, followed by his eyes becoming strangely distant, giving her an answer once several seconds passed. "I wouldn't mind it at all, especially to a woman that risks her life daily to protect the Citadel."

She blushed when he said it, turning her omni-tool on and extending her arm so he could write on the screen with the 'pen' that appeared next to it. He did so, the motions smooth and flawless, almost too flawless really. When he was done, she pulled her arm back, giddy to say the least from the way her eyes were sparkling like those of a starstruck fan. "Wow, it looks like it's the signature of a professional artist! Have you done this before?"

He let out a light chuckle, replying after he did. "You could say I learned from the best of the best. Have a good day, Miss Habrius."

She returned the courtesy, leaving the apartment, and once she had, Meldos repeated his question from earlier. "Are you willing to join?"

"I am, nothing better to do in my 'retirement' anyway. What's the first mission you need done?"

"Glad you asked. I've been given the opportunity to help C-Sec in finding a possible suspect involved with the attempt on the Councilor's life. For now, besides the three of us, there are two other people that are a part of the agency, both asari. Despite that, they have my complete trust, so I hope you'll treat them the same as any turian that joins in the future." _Asari as part of an off-the-record turian black ops agency? If there isn't a story behind that, I'll take back everything I ever said about politicians in general._

Coming to the conclusion that 'agency' couldn't have been it's real name, he decided to learn it. "What'll our merry little band of spies and soldiers be called?"

"Oh right, I didn't tell you yet. It's name is Antrafell." Meldos said, causing an old and nearly forgotten memory to resurface.

"As in that ancient myth about eternal guardians protecting the land of the dead?"

The words made a melancholic smile appear on his new boss' face, the emotion looking out of place on a officer, much less one from Blackwatch. "The very same. I'll come by tomorrow at this time to introduce you to your co-workers. The day after that, we'll start work on our first official operation; well, as official as it can be considering the unique nature of Antrafell. Until then, you can do whatever you want. I've already sent you my contact information. Have a pleasant day, Agent Edoraka."

They left without another word, the apartment now empty save himself, and he had more than enough on his mind thanks to the few short minutes of conversation. _Never thought I'd willingly become a spook. What would my old DI think of me? Not important I guess. I wonder if I should call Mateia back now, or wait a few minutes? Now THERE'S an important question._

* * *

**A whooollleee lot of stuff went down here, and I wouldn't be surprised if I have to re-read it myself before starting work on the next chapter, so here's to the possibilities of the future! That said, OOF. I'm reminded why I try to avoid super long chapters: they have too much happening in them to see it all on first glance, and they take next to forever to finish. Speaking of…..**

**Really sorry about the wait guys, but it took a while for me to find the time to focus on writing this, combined with large amounts of yard work thanks to it being late spring, as well as how long this turned out to be, fixing several grammar issues in chapter 1, and only further delayed by what the next paragraph covers. I've been waiting to make this chapter for a couple months now. I never understood how after so many races joined the Citadel, only humanity thought to make an organization like this (Cerberus that is, before it went rogue at least). That only one of the big three even has a proper intelligence branch made even less sense. I mean I get why each species focuses on a specific field, but common sense dictates they merely focus on it, rather than abandoning every other field entirely. Why rely on others when you can do it yourself? Anyway, back to the story. This is the final chapter before that planned time skip, meaning the next we see everyone they'll have adjusted to their situations quite a bit more, and will maybe even have the chance to sit back and enjoy some time off…right up until the plot manages to wreck that idea with extreme prejudice. *grins evilly* We're entering the arc's final stage boys and girls, and if you think we'll be settling down until then, I can't wait to prove you wrong.**

**After debating it for over a month, I've decided to replace the prologue. The current/previous one was made when I was still trying to decide where I wanted to take this fic, and as such has become an issue for me considering how long it'll take for it to become relevant. I'll still use the material, but only once this finally makes it into the Shepard era, and when it does go back up, it's going to have been rewritten and extended, covering far more than it used to. In it's place will be something I believe to be far more appropriate: the final moments of the Reaper known as Monarch, it's actual name having been Trescari, it being the original 'vanguard of your destruction' before Sovereign, aka Nazara, held the title, so be sure to check it out! Also, I'm scrapping the plan I mentioned in the old prologue's AN about putting the Shepard chapters in-between parts of the story. I've put additional thought into it, and have come to the conclusion that it only interrupts the flow of the plot, so it's a no-go as far as I'm concerned.**

**My reasoning behind why a female turian would wrap a towel around their waist instead of chest is quite simple really: turians, females in particular, lack a pair of certain somethings on that part of their body, so their standards of modesty would differ accordingly.**

**If you want to know what a 'shathra' looks like, just look up images of a mircoraptor from a game called Ark, it's what I based it off of. Just replace the teeth with a hawk's beak.**

**A reviewer reminded me of this, so I thought I could leave it to you guys for any ideas. Once Retribution gets a regular supply of nanites going (meaning once it gets access to the rest of the galaxy), it can start production of an army, thanks to the hundreds of husked species it has onboard from the various cycles it was involved in before crashing on Jartar. As I've only described three of them (read the part of chapter 1 where's he's picking a body to find the two that aren't from his own race), the options are nearly unlimited. They could have claws, teeth, wings, lasers and poison gas like the Prometheans in ME2, heck, they might even be able to make Adjutants at a later point in the fic (OP? Yes. Do I care? No, not really). You want something that can rip apart solid steel with pure strength alone? That's an option, just look at the Brutes from ME3. Something with a running speed faster than a car? That's an option. Something that has more pointy ends than the iron throne of Westeros? That's an option. I leave it to you all to think of what husks they could have, and this isn't limited to completely original species either. I'm not making a crossover, but I wouldn't mind adding in alien races from a different franchise, just be sure to include a possible name for either their former species, or for the husk itself, doesn't need to be both if you provide the other. Can't wait to see the results you guys come up with (especially considering I didn't put much thought into this before, yet now I can't help but think of the possibilities), so I'll end this here.**

**As always, it's been fun writing this out. I hope you enjoyed and I'll see you next time!**


	15. Chapter 15, Part 1

*****The Broken Reaper*****

**Chapter 15: Awakening: The Visit, Part 1**

* * *

**AN: 107 followers. That's…..I don't even have the words. I know it may not seem like much compared to many other fics on the site, but 100 is a huge number for me. That it was at 93 (unless I'm mistaken) before I posted the last chapter marks it as a double win in my eyes, as it confirmed my suspicions regarding the original prologue keeping prospective readers from going further into the story, and marks it as the second best chapter I've had in respect to popularity growth (chapter 8 was and is the #1 so far, but it had close to three weeks to get that many). Now that I've thoroughly patted myself on the back, let's get to the reviews, and I'll try to make them shorter than last time around (no promises).**

**Prometheus-777: There's a reason he's still the Councilor even after years of disagreements with the people that put him into the office; that reason being that in spite of the man's personal beliefs, he is VERY good at his job. Case in point, what you mentioned about him using his maxed out charisma to get a date with a reporter he just met, and got a Reaper to work with (not for) him in under five minutes of first making the proposition. Not every turian is like those two, Setherus serves as a perfect example, it's just that that type of thing is more casual in turian culture (from what I remember of Garrus' explanation on the subject at least). She is a she (or at least as close to one that a formerly alive, billion-year-old AI can be) and prefers to be called as such, it simply caught her off guard is all. I'm still surprised you haven't figured out who I (loosely) based her personality off of. I mean she's the partner of a highly capable soldier, has a sarcastic attitude, a tendency to go digging for secrets, and you know, just being a female AI with blue as her primary color scheme. If you haven't figured it out yet, I must not be very good at this kind of thing. *shrugs* As for T'Loris: if I said, it would be telling, now wouldn't it? No vorcha in the Blood Pack as they haven't been discovered yet, hence why they're still a small Terminus merc group at this point rather than the infamous and galaxy-wide organization they are in canon (although I did kinda goof in having them around this early on, that seems to be a recurring theme. Oh well). The answer about it being a conspiracy is coming soon enough, so have fun reading!**

**Tom712: *blinks* *opens his mouth only to stop and keep blinking* That's….actually….AWESOME! Keep up the great ideas!**

**Blaze1992: As we're still having those pm's, I don't really need to put anything here that you don't already know. Aside from that, thanks for the review! The possible husk ideas we continue to brainstorm over will and are helping me out like you wouldn't believe.**

**Guest: Precisely, and let's not forget how they're actively holding back technological advancement, plus the only possible reason for not joining the Reaper war sooner was because of that arrogance. It took Thessia being burned for them to take it seriously, and that was after Earth AND Palaven had fallen. You know, the home world of that race known for training every citizen as a soldier? Anyway, ranting aside, thanks for the review!**

**That's right folks, another multi-part series! A lot's going to happen in the near future, as just like the previous chapter, this is something I've been planning for a while now. Added in some new characters here, which means even more unique personalities in our motley crew; will expand on them over the following parts, hopefully making them seem just as interesting as the ones we already know, so I can't wait to hear what you guys think when it's all said and done. Don't worry, there'll still be plenty of entertaining mishaps from the originals, it's just that they're no longer the only eyes we'll see through on a regular basis.**

**Fairly important: remember that dating system I mentioned back in chapter 3? I'm both using it from now on and altering it, as while replaying ME2 I noticed far more than just humans use month as a time measurement. There are now 10 months in each Citadel year, 35 days a month except for the final three with 34, and the last month follows the rules I mentioned regarding leap years. I won't be using weeks for dating to keep from confusing anyone by how much time has passed, as months and the 1st-35****th**** days will be how I go from now on, with weeks only being used by the characters themselves. You know, I'm honestly surprised I didn't think of this the first time around. Anywho, it should in theory make keeping track of time easier. If it doesn't, just say so, and I'll make the appropriate changes for the next chapter.**

**Small note regarding the abbreviations: CE is Citadel Era instead of common, and GST is Galactic Standard Time.**

* * *

**10****th**** month, 31****st**** day, 1027 CE, 9:82 GST, unmapped keeper tunnels beneath the Presidium.**

"Squad One, do you have eyes on the target?" He asked over their comms.

"_Negative Commander, no sign of them." _Responded Drutus, or 'newbie' if you listened to Valora, and much to the man's annoyance, quite a few of them did.

"Squad Two?"

"_Negative, no contact." _Answered 'gramps', an older man in his mid 50's in charge of Squad Two, a previously retired Blackwatch captain named Lavaeus Duvirian. The nickname was also Valora's handiwork, with a majority of the various squad members soon following her in referring to Lavaeus using it instead of his actual name. When the elder turian found out about it, he just laughed, saying 'kids always find a way to combine a compliment with an insult', almost welcoming the 'title'. Aside from his thirty year service record he wasn't overly remarkable, but the man's sheer experience made him irreplaceable nonetheless.

"Seen anything, Squad Three?"

"_Nothing so far-wait. Movement detected in front of us. Heading to investigate." _Said the leader of Squad Three, a middle-aged female that used to be a sergeant in the Marines by name of Calvatia Treniso; given the apt nickname of 'scowl' by Valora, but unlike Lavaeus, she was the only one brave or dumb enough to use it in front of the turian. There was a large scar on the left side of her face just above the mandible, a 'gift' from time spent in a Terminus slaver's custody, where her jailor repeatedly cracked and lifted a facial plate for sadistic pleasure; her previous squad killed either when they were captured or during their 'host's' more bloodthirsty moments, making it seem as if a smile was a foreign expression to her. From what he'd read, it was an incredibly painful experience, similar to having skin peeled off for any other species. The fact she escaped after weeks of such treatment, and evaded capture for another week, killing half her pursuers in the process, meant he held the woman in great respect. After the Hierarchy found the slaver base several days later, all that was left of them were a dozen cowering scum that locked themselves in the main building, hiding there with the automated defenses turned on. They cleared it out before too long and found her afterward, having watched the entire thing from a nearby hill. She was given a medal for valor and an honorable discharge due to medical reasons both mental and physical, and it took years to recover from both; only to be turned down when she tried to sign up a second time, with the reason given being 'possible relapses in psychological issues during combat'. She was more than happy to join when he asked because of it.

It took him less than a week to recruit those on the list who lived on the Citadel, of which all but one agreed to join, giving him just shy of twenty members in the agency at the time. Once that was done, he went outside the Citadel to gather the ships and various crewmembers for them, and like the message had said, every single one of them were very much so willing to sign on; most being displeased with the current state of galactic politics, and welcoming the opportunity to improve their race's standing in one form or another. He now commanded over 600 men and woman, a cruiser, eight frigates, three elite squads of five soldiers each, his own 'squad' of four that consisted of him, Ocean, Setherus, and Valora, and had plans to grow it further when they finally left the Citadel. Not that living on the station was unpleasant of course, far from it in fact: he just had an indescribable feeling of discomfort that grew the longer he stayed there, as if the station itself disagreed with him on a fundamental level, and when he asked Ocean she said he wasn't the only one to notice it, though neither of them understood why.

As for the ships themselves, they had been officially 'retired' to a scrapyard less than a day after he told Campascus about the recruitments being successful, and promptly 'disappeared' soon after they got there, their new crew's flying them out with no one noticing: spending the time while they waited for new missions hunting pirate vessels in the Traverse to improve coordination between the nine captains. If the last report he received was anything to go by, they were managing to do a fairly good job of it too, making it seem like one of the frigates was heavily damaged and filled to the brim with military-grade weapons and equipment right outside well known pirate ambush sites, a distress signal broadcasting how they were suffering from systems failure, were low on oxygen, and request assistance. Naturally, almost every time, a pirate or slaver too greedy for their own good would come out to 'help', only for the trap to spring the moment they got too close, as the rest of the fleet would come out of FTL right on top of the criminals. Rather than destroy the outlaw ship, they would disable it to the point of not being able to do anything aside from hold in an atmosphere, so the vessel could be cleared without damaging any goods in the cargo hold, the fleet turning a profit whenever it docked with a station for repairs or to resupply. The orders he'd given to leave the crippled ships and their dead crews in place confused the captains at first, as they intended to sell them to local scrappers for additional funding, but he explained it as him sending his personal ship to salvage anything it could, and to ensure nothing of value or that could identify who attacked it was left behind. He was only partially lying. After all, Orchestra was very thorough in clearing a ship of every possible resource, which happened to include husks made from the deceased pirates.

While he was doing all that, Ocean got to work on building the organizational structure needed for the agency to run, Setherus as an advisor on how to divide the various ground squads and their members so they could be used to good effect. After the lockdown placed on Hades Gamma ended a week earlier than expected thanks to his behind-the-scenes 'assistance', a convenient story being released that was a version of what he gave the Councilor with a few minor changes made, primarily being the addition of how 'the Waiting Predator was destroyed by pirates, with less than a dozen crew surviving', the Maw and Retribution both left the cluster, the latter having to wait until the backed up traffic died down for it to do so. Besk got the first 'shipment' along with his shuttle before that happened, the salarian pilot 'convinced' to stay true to his word thanks to staying on Retribution up to that point, the shipment a selection of relatively harmless objects that looked like simple trinkets; if one ignored how they were reusable sonic grenades powerful enough to shatter all but the heaviest armor like it was made from glass, flesh and bone following suit. Suffice to say, the krogan was very pleased with this arrangement, and was interested in continuing their 'business relations' when he needed the Maw for whatever reason in the future. The grenades had built-in self-destruct mechanisms to keep anyone from tampering with or replicating them, so he wasn't concerned about the tech becoming widespread.

When the krogan mentioned having Valora return as part of their original deal, she surprised them both when she refused, stating she was 'doing something more important for the foreseeable future', instead asking for a week's vacation to 'enjoy some time off' with her old crew. Knowing she meant to have so much sex she came back drooling and weak-kneed, and Captain Vadrax most likely knowing it too from the way he had smirked, the two of them agreed to let her visit whenever she wanted, and not even getting told about her contract being void thanks to the change in employer managed to interrupt her from vocally debating with herself about the 'best ways to keep it interesting in bed'. There was a good chance she did most of it, as the next he saw the asari she had a smug grin plastered on: bragging about 'leaving my bondmate begging for more', and there were numerous spots on her neck that looked vaguely like bite-marks, some of them still healing. The way she avoided sitting down for a couple days let him know it wasn't just her neck with marks on it, Ocean and Setherus making good-natured jokes about her 'sensitive skin', Valora gladly responding with how 'it was totally worth it'.

Seeing as they didn't need to use it for transport anymore, the Thessian Countryside went back to it's normal trade routes, except now with the purpose of serving as an 'induction center' for those they wanted to use as information sources, indoctrinating any future crew just enough for them to be loyal to both 'Cerhn Perdweigh', owner of the ship, and 'Major Meldos', a close friend of 'Perdweigh'. Needless to say, Campascus had managed to get 'him' promoted. The original crew would be slowly replaced as their contracts expired, going back to their homes and families as if they'd never experienced what took place in the Hades Gamma cluster, and would never tell a soul what happened there because of everything that did.

He took advantage of the access he had to Pinnacle station and traveled there, bringing the people he'd come to value most in his new life, the four of them unofficially called 'Zero Squad' by the other ground teams, and trained with them for a solid week. So they didn't attract too much attention, he and Ocean avoided engaging in CQC, honing their skills with biotics and ranged weaponry instead. Ocean turned out to be a natural in regards to the former: mastering biotic charges, warps, stasis fields, barriers, and even learning the basic versions of abilities like singularities and shockwaves, Valora shifting between shocked and jealous on a regular basis at the speed she was improving. He turned out to be more of a combat generalist, able to use every weapon type fairly well, and being told by the others training there that he was extremely proficient with grenades, assault rifles, and shotguns; of course he didn't mention how in his last life it was his preferred loadout, not counting swords that is. His biotics weren't anything special sadly, although his barriers were apparently well above average according to a few asari commandos on station. He was surprised to learn it, yet when compared to the shields on his body's actual armor, it was still underwhelming; but that may have been because they were so ridiculously strong that they could compete with the time period's low-end tanks, never mind how tough the armor itself was.

With all this going on, C-Sec wasn't lazy, investigating the attack and interrogating the would-be assassin. The results of the investigation revealed surprisingly little, but the interrogation on the other hand, combined with what Ocean found on the man's omni-tool once they came back to the Citadel, led to where they were now: chasing an asari sniper by name of Yaeez Gadena for over three hours across Tayseri Ward, briefly losing her for a half-hour, before she was spotted in a rapid transit car heading to the Presidium; ending in what he was sure had been a perfect ambush between the four squads in the keeper tunnels that ran underneath that section of the giant station.

He sent a message to the three others in his group telling them to be ready to go in, not even turning his omni-tool on to do so. Ocean sent an affirmative immediately after he did, and the 'two misfits', her attempt at naming someone, or in this case a pair of someone's, gave him a silent nod indicating the same, showing they understood what he meant by 'go in' without even asking. That is to say: only if the other squads ran into trouble. _Say what you will about the 'competitions' we've had and probably will have with each other, but after living together for these past several weeks, it feels nice to be able to just relax among friends. Well, as close to relaxing as hunting a centuries old killer for hire can be. That said, I'm still annoyed that Valora started those rumors in the other squads about me and Ocean being a….being a….._

He didn't finish the thought, not recognizing the emotion that surfaced at the idea, bringing his attention back to the comms, waiting for Calvatia to update them on what she found. He didn't have to wait long, by normal standards at least, but the nature of his existence ever since he 'awoke' meant it took far longer than he preferred. It was also moments like these he found himself wishing everyone else in the universe could somehow operate at the same speed as him. _"False alarm, it's just a keeper."_

_*sigh* How many places can someone hide down here? _"Search the area. If you don't find her, meet up with Squad Two on the other side of the tunnel."

"_Will do, Sir." _He wanted to correct her, only to remember that to them he was 'Major Meldos, their Commander and a hero to any turian' as Setherus so eloquently explained one night when he asked why the new members seemed so reverent of him. It was then that he understood why he had a near 100% success rate when recruiting. He couldn't bring himself to order them into being more informal, as just asking did next to nothing when going up against a militaristic reflex ingrained into their society for thousands of years, eventually deciding to accept it for what it was, albeit begrudgingly. He was brought out of his thoughts when Lavaeus spoke up.

"_I don't like this; it's too quiet down here."_

"_How so?" _Asked Drutus.

"_Call it a gut feeling. You learn how to tell after-" _he was cut off by Calvatia, voice frenzied and alert _"Contact! One of my men was just taken out!"_

_Darkness dammit, don't tell me we lost one on our first combat mission! _"How bad?"

"_It went through his shields and dented his helmet, but it wasn't fatal, just knocked him out. Didn't even hear the shot being fired!" He survived, that's good to hear. So she uses proton ammo and a suppressor? Sounds like a custom job. Must've cost a small fortune to buy, but her line of work certainly pays enough for it._

"_Should we move in, Commander?" _Drutus asked in concern.

"Negative, hold position; that goes for Squad Two as well. Squad Three, try to keep her pinned down, we're coming to support you."

"_So Zero Squad is having to save Treniso's ass? Why am I not surprised." _He heard muttered in the background of one of the lines, and before he could reprimand whoever it was, Lavaeus clamped down on them in an unexpected way.

"_If you'd like, agent, I'm sure one of the asari have something you could do. I hear Sederis is always looking for new sparring partners to beat to a pulp, and the Sub-Commander doesn't have any 'assistants' to practice her biotics on at the moment. Either way, your enthusiasm would be put to good use, if you're volunteering that is."_

The response was a dead silence, and as the four of them approached the engaged squad's position, he wondered just what the man meant with the latter comment. Seeing as he still had over ten seconds until they arrived, he decided to find out. _Ocean, what's this about you using live targets to test your new abilities on?_

She chuckled nervously, but not audibly, the speed at which they were conversing making such a thing impractical. _Oh that? Nothing too important really: I just asked one of the new guys to help me figure out my singularity duration and range._

_And you couldn't have used boxes or training dummies becaauuuseee?_

_Ok, so I may have told him to try running around to force me into thinking about where to place it._

_Please tell me the results weren't as bad as Lavaeus made them out to be….._

_It's not my fault he nearly fell off the balcony; I was positive he would spin back around before it went out!_

_*sigh* Nine weeks, and you still manage to impress me with your lack of forethought. To think the first time I remember you doing it was all the way back on Jartar with that turian shuttle._

_Hey now, you can't pin that one on me, I really was following my core programming at the time. _She said quickly, a little too quickly even by their standards.

_Suuurrreeee you were._

Although they weren't actually speaking using their physical bodies, she let out a huff from her metaphorical nose, and if it wasn't for how 'long' he'd have needed to wait for it to form, there would've been a smile on his face in reaction to it. He ended the connection, satisfied with knowing the answer, and forced himself to slow his processing speed down to match a normal person's once more. _One downside about being able to think faster than light: you have to become very patient with everyone that can't. I'm not sure if it's a blessing or a curse at this point, but at least it explains why Ocean tends to multitask during regular conversations. Might try it myself just to see what it's like._

He shook his head, focusing on the task at hand, as the echoing pops of mass effect munitions heard off in the distance were getting closer with every step, no doubt suppressive fire on the sniper's position. After rounding a final turn, he saw the entirety of Squad Three in cover surrounding an up to this point unknown side tunnel, split with two on one corner and the still unconscious man, the squad's corpsman hovering over him, and Calvatia on the other. The second his group came in sight, she yelled out to them.

"GET DOWN, THE SNIPER'S AT THE OTHER END OF THE TUNNEL!" None of them needed to be told a second time, diving for opposite sides much like the one's already there, an almost unnoticeable flash of light the only warning before a fizzling 'ping' hit the wall where his head used to be.

"Thanks, that was a close one! You have any ideas how to advance non-lethally? If Gadena dies, then all of this would've been for nothing."

"Sorry Sir, but everything I can come up with would end in casualties; an entrenched sniper is a nightmare to get rid of, much less capture alive. Want to hear what I had in mind anyway?"

He took a quick glance around the corner, his artificial nature giving him a perfect image of the setup of the asari's position, ducking back when he noticed the dark outline of a barrel turning his direction. _Looks like a parts storage room of some sort. If there was a way to escape it, she would've done so by now, so I doubt flanking is an option. Guess that pincer move with Squad Two and Three was successful after all. Hmm, I wonder if this could work…._

"Calvatia, you're qualified as a marksman, correct?"

She tilted her head in confusion, the helmet covering her face keeping him from seeing any emotion beside it, moving a hand to the sniper rifle on her back as if to remind herself it was still there. "Yes Sir, I was top of my class for accuracy in basic, and my last test in the Marines put me in the top five percent at ranges over 500 meters, at the time at least."

"How long have we been in these tunnels?"

Her head tilted even further, but she looked down at the floor in thought, answering him a few seconds later. "Just under an hour."

"Ok, good, then with that in mind, as a sniper yourself: what do you think would happen if a flashbang went off directly in front of where your scope was aimed?"

She straightened out, and he could imagine the look of realization on her face, before she gave him an answer. "Even with a filter I'd be blinded for at least fifteen seconds. I take it you have one on you, Sir?"

She couldn't see it, but a massive grin formed on his own face, replying simply and honestly. "Always."

He turned towards Ocean and Valora at the other corner, changing to their private comms. "You hear all that?"

"Yup. So, what's your plan after it detonates?" Inquired Ocean.

"For the two of you to biotically charge in and put Gadena in a stasis, switching off whenever it's close to breaking; at least until we can make sure she doesn't have any means of killing herself, seeing as I'd rather not risk losing our only lead to the mastermind behind the attack. Oh, and grab her rifle too, it might be useful to have. We'll be bringing her back to the nest with us to 'ask' some questions after the graduation party."

"Let me guess: you want me to give her a 'healthy' dose of nanites to work at making her cooperative? You do know indoctrinating in hours like that kills the person on the receiving end after a few days, right? No species' brain is meant to handle being scrambled that quickly; I mean we ran that second batch of tests on those mercs I hired from Omega for a reason."

"Doesn't matter, remember? Campascus publicly said an execution would take place when 'C-Sec' found those responsible, so she wouldn't have long to live either way."

She sighed, accepting the argument. "Looking at it from that angle, I suppose you're right. Valora, have you been working on your reaction time after a charge?"

The actual asari scoffed, in annoyance from what he could tell. "Yeah, I have, just don't expect me to be as fast as you squids. With the fucking absurd stunts you two can pull off, you're like the terrifying offspring of a krogan in a bloodrage and a salarian jumped up on adrenal stimulants."

Said 'squids' chuckled at the remark, Setherus joining in, more at how accurate it was than anything else. After they settled down he looked at them one final time, each giving a small nod. He went back to Squad Three's combat frequency, speaking after he did, and to their credit no questions were asked regarding what the plan was. "Alright, on my mark. 3…2…1…"

* * *

She understood what he meant immediately, surprised the Major had already come up with something. _That's Blackwatch for you; special forces always did seem to be three steps ahead of everyone else back when I was still enlisted._

"Even with a filter I'd be blinded for at least fifteen seconds. I take it you have one on you, Sir?"

His response was as short as possible, reminding her of the demolitions expert in her old squad when asked about whether they carried explosives. "Always."

In spite of the situation, a ghost of a smile forced it's way out before she could stop it, only to be replaced with the stony expression she preferred, all without anyone else knowing it. That side of her had been buried ever since the slaver base, and she wasn't about to revive it any time soon. Meldos turned to Sederis and Perdweigh on the other side, apparently having switched to a different channel, as she didn't hear a word they said. It mildly upset her that she wasn't trusted enough to be a part of their conversation, but she understood the reasoning behind it; the nature of Antrafell and it's purpose meaning information was on a need-to-know basis as the rule rather than the exception.

She silently gestured for the two members of her own squad not busy with something to get ready, and they carried out the order just as silently. They didn't have to wait long, as the Commander spoke up less than a minute later. "Alright, on my mark. 3…2…1…GO!"

He jumped into the open, throwing a flashbang halfway down the tunnel, his shoulder getting hit before he dove for the ground. Thankfully, the armor held, or at least she assumed it did from the lack of any pained grunt, and the grenade went off the moment it hit the ground, briefly lighting up the entire area. Perdweigh and Sederis ran out of cover themselves as soon as it detonated, glowing biotic blue the entire time, and charged down to the other end. Considering a lack of return fire, they had been successful in whatever it was they did, so she cautiously leaned around the corner to see what happened. The two held a third asari between them, the apparent sniper completely surrounded in a blue aura, her body unmoving, with Perdweigh slinging a heavily modified rifle over her shoulder, the fact it even had a sling proof of that, undoubtedly belonging to the freshly made prisoner. The mission finally over, she walked up to Meldos, still on the ground, and reached a hand to him. He promptly took it, standing back up without any difficulty.

"Are you alright, Sir?" She asked, slightly worried, though she made sure not to show it in her voice.

"I'll be fine, just a little sore is all." He responded calmly. It almost convinced her, if not for the hole in his shoulder plate, dark grey paint chipping around it.

"If it's not too much trouble I can have my corpsman take a look at it to see if the round penetrated the armor's under layer."

"I said I'm fine. No blood, see?" He turned on his omni-tool's flashlight and shined it on the hole, and there was indeed no blood coming out, relieving her. It was short-lived, however, as it reminded her of the last time she'd been in a similar situation, an old guilt resurfacing. _The first deployment of every squad at the same time, and I'm responsible for my superior getting shot and nearly wounded, because I was incapable of thinking how best to proceed. Just like what happened all those years ago…._

Oblivious to her self-loathing thoughts, Meldos informed the other two squads about the success, eventually saying something that caught her attention. "I expect to see all squad leaders at the nest in time for the party tonight, no exceptions. And remember: try to be nice. She's been in boot camp for five months now, so I want military discipline to be the last thing on her mind when surrounded by active duty and retired officers. Everyone else, enjoy some well-earned time off. You have until New Year's before we leave the station." Several cheers could be heard from the other squads, and the two members of her own that weren't busy fist bumped.

'The nest' was the term used to describe where Zero Squad lived and operated from, a two story penthouse turned into a makeshift headquarters, many of the empty rooms used as operational centers for one thing or another. At 127 stories it was the tallest building for several blocks in every direction, meaning the view was spectacular, and it was built for upwards of ten people to occupy it, so the four of them had plenty of additional space to use whenever they needed it. _Wait, that's tonight? Dammit, I forgot to buy a graduation present! *sigh* Looks like I have some shopping to do._

The other two squad leaders gave him a 'yessir' and she did the same, busy trying to think of what would be a useful gift for the girl. Only a single person there knew them personally, so having a good first impression was ideal. After all, you went through basic only once, and if she was anything like her brother, Salonia Kalnen had an interesting career ahead of her.

* * *

_**17:03 GST, Tower 343, Penthouse Suite, Bachjret Ward.**_

She walked out of the elevator, for once glad that they were so incredibly slow, as it let her make a final examination of her uniform and luggage: the former crisp and spotless, and the latter not missing anything from when she last checked an hour prior. There was a large window to her left as she stood in the hallway, only the elevator and her destination connected by it, and she decided to admire the view it offered: a multitude of vibrant whites, yellows, blues, reds, and a dozen other colors dancing across the ward, as if an artist had masterfully painted it all just for her. To say it was beautiful would be an understatement. _Just….spirits! How can Seth even afford this place?! I know he said there were three other people that live with him, but the rent on one of these normally runs an entire years salary for an officer of his rank!_

She spent another minute just looking at the scenery most only dreamed of seeing, and took a picture with her omni-tool to remember it by, doubting she'd ever have the opportunity to do so again. That done with, she picked up her bags and went to the door, struggling to 'ring' the digital bell, both hands occupied with carrying the heavy luggage. After several attempts she finally succeeded, a short-lived cheer coming from her. The reason why it was short-lived stood in the now open doorway, his mandibles spread in an amused smirk, and Salonia blushed in embarrassment. "Nice job on your spectacular victory against the doorbell; want some help with those bags?"

"No, I've got them." She told her brother in a low voice, internally berating herself for doing something so childish.

"Are you suuurree?" He asked teasingly.

"Yes, I'm sure; I can handle myself!" that marked the second time she blushed, wanting to smack her forehead for letting him goad her so easily "I see you've been getting some practice in."

He scoffed, briefly glancing inside the unusually dark room that was at his back. "You can say that again. I honestly have no idea how I'm still sane considering who I have to deal with on a daily basis."

Before she could respond, an asari voice cut in from the direction he'd looked, confusing her. "Oh fuck you, pointy!"

Several muffled snickers followed it, along with what sounded like a turian muttering "you just had to ruin the surprise, you damned blue bimbo", snorts and laughter from multiple people breaking out as a result. "Uh, Seth, you going to introduce me to your friends?"

He sighed and shook his head before giving her an answer, lightly chuckling at what must've been a private joke. "No point in going through with the plan now." he turned around to face those inside, still hidden by the darkness "You can switch the lights back on, Cerhn. Newbie, seeing as you forgot to keep handless from talking, you owe me 50 credits. Don't bother debating it; we all agreed the loser of that match was responsible for her, and you're lucky we weren't playing for real money with how terrible you are at cards."

The turian voice started grumbling various curses, the asari one doing the same, before what was apparently the living room of the penthouse slowly lit up; revealing half-a-dozen people all standing underneath an actual banner, rather than a holographic one, saying 'Congratulations Salonia! 263rd Training Regiment of 1027.'

With all the other decorations, streamers, holographic confetti, and a small pile of giftwrapped boxes on a table in front of a large couch, she was completely shocked, eyes wide and mouth wide-open, and she almost missed it when the second asari raised an omni-tool covered arm towards her, a brief flash the only thing telling her it was a picture. It managed to snap her out of it, and she immediately closed her mouth, grey scales turned a deep shade of blue. If that wasn't bad enough, Setherus' omni-tool lit up with a message, and when he opened it he let out a bark of laughter, almost all the others in the room doing the same as their own 'tools lit up, the scarred woman the only one not to, merely smirking as she looked at her wrist. Salonia came close to punching her brother in the shoulder before he showed the pic to her, his laughter having turned into a grin that only grew when he saw her reaction to it. _Oh...oh spirits….I look like a shathra begging for food. Why did I have to spend the two weeks until my advanced training begins visiting him instead of Mom and Dad? At least then I wouldn't know what I look like impersonating a pet. Stupid older brothers, and their stupid promises of having a fun vacation. I should've known better than to trust the guy that hacked into Dad's bank account on a dare when he was 14. Although, the fact I was the one to dare him might've had something to do with it. I swear, sometimes I can still feel how sore my legs were after that ten kilometer run Dad made us go on when he found out. Learned that lesson the hard way._

She was brought out of her thoughts when Setherus started pointing out the odd collection of people, each one giving a friendly nod when their name came up. "From right to left: Lieutenant Drutus Edoraka, Valora Sederis, Major Primus Meldos, Cerhn Perdweigh, Captain Lavaeus Duvirian, and Sergeant Calvatia Treniso. Edoraka, Duvirian, and Treniso are retired from the military though. They're what you might call my coworkers, from a certain point of view, and Primus is, technically, our boss."

"I thought you were serving on the Waiting Predator?" She said, remembering the last message he'd sent to her before getting the offer to spend some time with him on the Citadel.

"You mean you haven't heard any of the news lately?" Asked the asari that took the pic, Perdweigh if she remembered correctly, and Salonia noticed how her eyes seemed to glow artificially, a mesmerizing sapphire blue. _Implants? One of the drill instructors had something similar, but his were obviously mechanical, whereas hers seem like a more expensive set. If it wasn't for the glow, they could be passed off as the originals. Guess the asari's reputation for high-quality medical technology is well earned._

"Heard what? I haven't been allowed access to the extranet in months; the only source of information from the outside world trainees are permitted is messages from family, and I haven't gotten anything for over a month-and-a-half. Why, did something happen?"

All six of them shared a look, facing Setherus after they did; her brother letting out a long sigh. "You may want to sit down for this. I won't be able to share everything, but I can cover what's been shown publicly at least."

She gave a hesitant nod, worried about the foreboding tone in his voice, sitting down on one end of the three-seater couch in the living room, with him across from her in a recliner chair. Meldos and Perdweigh went into the now visible kitchen, the latter reading off several ingredients from her omni-tool to the former, him opening cabinets and pulling out what Salonia assumed were said ingredients without even looking, the man's fluid movements showing he'd done it before. The other asari, Sederis she recalled, and Edoraka pulled out a small, portable table, two foldable chairs along with it, and placed them near the front door; a deck of cards seemingly appearing out of thin air once they both sat down, and she heard Sederis explaining how to 'make the best goddess damned poker face this side of the Traverse', Edoraka listening intently. The final two were sitting out on the penthouse's balcony, doing something on their omni-tools.

Setherus took a deep breath and let it out, staring up at the ceiling in thought. "Where to begin….my ship was returning from it's patrol in the Hades Gamma Cluster-"

* * *

**A relatively calm chapter in comparison to the past several; that said, just like everything else so far, don't expect it to last. Won't spoil much of what's about to happen, but this I will say: think of this and the next few chapters as my story's version of the Citadel DLC, just without anyone having an evil clone. Well, that's not the only major difference, but like I said, no spoilers.**

**You may be wondering 'was the tower name a reference to halo?' I will shamelessly admit that yes, it was. What? They're an awesome game series, in spite of halo 5 playing more like a six hour interlude, and I can't wait for the next one to be released.**

**As always, you guys are awesome, and it's been fun writing this out. I hope you enjoyed and I'll see you next time!**


	16. Chapter 16, Part 2

*****The Broken Reaper*****

**Chapter 16: Awakening: The Visit, Part 2**

* * *

**AN: Huh, updating this on the last day of the month. Cool. Anyway, I'm going to try something new with my reviews responses: if they get ridiculously large (which happens a lot, because I can't stop myself from talking at times), I'll send it over a PM instead to keep from cluttering the author's notes, and will label the section for that reviewer accordingly. If you get one, just treat it like a normal response and ask whatever questions you might have via reviewing instead of replying to the message.**

**Prometheus-777: Seeing as I always make your response section massive, expect more of these labels in the future. [Covered in a PM] **

**Blaze1992: Convenience, as in it had it so why not use it, and being fully geared up, meaning she didn't have the space for it. She may specialize in CQC and biotics, but she can still easily use every weapon type thanks to the combat protocols downloaded, she just won't be as skilled compared to someone that does so naturally.**

**Tom712: Suuuurrree, whateveeerr you say. *shakes head with an amused smile on his face***

**I'm going to try and shorten future author's notes from now on to having most of them at the bottom, considering reviews take up enough space as is, even taking into account the new way I'm handling them.**

**I first thought up the general idea for this chapter all the way back before Valora even became a character, so believe me when I say this: it was going to happen one way or another. We'll pick up where we left off, and to steal a line from a fellow author that I've been saving for a while now, the first half of what you're about to read marks the final stretch before fecal matter begins to make contact with the oscillating cooling device (whoever said this originally, if you're reading this, thanks for an entertaining story).**

* * *

"-and after the last pirate ship was destroyed, the cruiser picked us up. The then Captain Meldos got in contact with me about a new post serving under him, and so here I am." He finished with a gesture at the surrounding penthouse. She processed it as best she could, another question popping up.

"What kind of job results in mercenaries, retirees, and active duty officers working together?"

"Not allowed to tell you, Sal. Wish I could, but what we're doing is classified to an extreme."

"Is it dangerous?" She asked worriedly.

"Not any more than my last post turned out to be." He responded with a shrug.

She paused to think about it, speaking up a few seconds later. "I'm starting to wish you joined Blackwatch instead. At least then you'd have gotten the best equipment in Hierarchy space, and it provides almost as many opportunities as the Navy in the long run."

"You and me both." He muttered just loud enough for her to hear. They were interrupted by Meldos, still helping Perdweigh in the kitchen.

"I've been meaning to ask: why did you go with the Navy?"

Her brother sighed, and if she had to guess, this wasn't the first time he'd been asked that question. "I wanted to see the galaxy, explore new areas of space, meet interesting people, and without being shot at while I did it. So much for that idea."

"Don't you still have the option to switch your career path? I'm sure I could arrange for you to stay on with me afterward; rank does have it's privileges after all."

Setherus opened his mouth to respond, only for no words to come out, mandibles clicking shut as his face gained a thoughtful look to it. He slowly nodded, repeating the motion several times before giving his answer. "You know what, you're right! It's been less than a year since I left the academy, so I could always just ask for a transfer to my original branch; I mean it's not as if there's anything keeping me in the Navy after what happened to the Predator. Why didn't I think of that?"

"Because, pointy, it's hard to think when your face is glued to those idiotic channels you never stop listening to." Sederis cut in, for some reason agitating him with the comment.

"Well, pardon me, handless! Is it my fault I like to stay informed of recent news?" _Handless? What kind of nickname is that? Wait, didn't he use it when I first got here as well?_

Before she could ask, Sederis angrily responded, making her wonder as to just why the two were creating such a big issue out of it. "You call the garbage pumped out by those opinionated assholes 'news'!? I learn more talking to a random person on the street than I do watching those fuckers!"

"At least I don't waste my time reading books and playing games based on some crazy grim-dark science fiction universe! What the hell is a god emperor even supposed to be, anyway?!"

An unusual sound came from the direction of the kitchen, causing every person in the luxury apartment to look at it's source, just in time to see Perdweigh finish spurting out what appeared to be some sort of fruit juice; the blue liquid traveling an impressive distance over the dining table she was standing behind.

The asari cleared her throat, chuckling in an obvious attempt to hide her embarrassment, and if it wasn't for the Major cutting in with a stern voice, she had no doubt they would've continued their seemingly pointless argument. "ENOUGH! How many times am I going to have to play referee for you two? It's been weeks since we started working together, so why is it so hard for you couple of misfits to get over your rivalry?"

The two of them cringed, the commanding tone ending any thoughts they might've had about continuing, and they pleadingly looked at the area to Meldos' right, setting their eyes once more on Perdweigh.

"Don't look at me, you're on your own here." Was all she said in reply to the silent request for aid, making them droop their heads in defeat. The exchange left her feeling completely bewildered, unable to say anything as she tried to understand just what happened in such a short period of time, thoroughly confused by all of it. She eventually remembered the question she had, and took advantage of the sudden quiet that had settled over them.

"Where did you get the nickname 'handless' from? Better yet, HOW did you get it? I mean, you're obviously not, so I'm rather curious."

Sederis absentmindedly rubbed the wrist of her left hand for some reason, not giving an immediate answer, and only stopped when she noticed the four sets of eyes looking at her; Treniso and Duvirian bringing their full attention to the conversation in apparent anticipation of an answer, Edoraka following suit. The merc, as Salonia learned she was thanks to Setherus, folded her arms underneath her chest, not returning any of their expectant gazes, and spoke in an unusually withheld and low tone compared to the previous outburst. "That's a personal matter."

There was a collective blink at the brief statement, only for any further questioning to be forgotten as Perdweigh started putting bowls and plates on the table, having already cleaned off the juice. "Dinner's ready, so come and get it! I've been trying my hand at more quarian recipes, so I can't wait to hear your opinions on it."

_Is that what those smells have been? I thought all the spices were intended to be some sort of natural air freshener. Quarian food made by an asari….heh, so I'll be having two firsts at once. Suppose it wouldn't hurt to try just a little bit._

* * *

The five turians plus one not-quite turian digging into their food, pleasured moans coming from Salonia that made Setherus chuckle, she did the finishing touches on her and Valora's own meal: a serving of rich fruits and slices of tender meat from an asari colony world. Satisfied they were ready, she brought a plate to where the actual asari sat on one end of the dining table, a pleased hum let out when the food was placed in front of her; eyeing the expertly made delicacy in anticipation like a predator would it's prey. _Who knew that being able to remember every single detail about something would come in handy for cooking. All I did was watch a few hundred vids and read a couple thousand articles on it, and all of a sudden I know how to make restaurant quality dishes. Okay, so learning how to cook for myself back home certainly helped, but I'm still surprised at how easy this is even for entirely different biology's. To think this all started when I made a sample for Setherus and Valora to try, just to see if it was any good, and now they refuse to accept anyone else cooking for them seeing as I'm their 'personal chef'._

She smiled in amusement as she sat down at the other end of the table, the fond memory being replayed in the privacy of her mind. While she would never say it out loud, she was touched by their honest compliments of her abilities, and was happy to continue honing her skills in that particular field, even though it did nothing more than improve their morale….or in the case of Setherus, increase the size of his stomach. It was still amusing to re-watch how he reacted upon learning that, stating how he wanted to lengthen his training regimen to make up for it. It worked, if only in returning him to his normal weight, and he decided to continue the training rather than eat less as, in his words, he got the best of both worlds by doing so. Valora had the advantage of burning off the extra calories thanks to being an asari: biotics forced even a species that had them naturally to eat more to make up for it, which is why a fat asari was practically non-existent; not that the merc was complaining, having an excuse to eat three or four servings a meal.

Annoyingly, it served as the catalyst to increase their formerly minimal rivalry back up to it's old levels; starting with Setherus believing Valora should increase her level of training to match his, and her believing he should instead decrease his eating habits. Predictably, neither side backed down, and they'd gained a reputation among the squads of being able to start a fight over any minor detail, with Hystuss having to step in on more than one occasion.

They finished with barely a word said between them, and she cleared off the table as they left, listening to the conversation that formed when Salonia moved to the gift pile.

"I assume that's for me?" The teenager asked, having difficulty holding in her excitement. _The one universal truth no matter the race or time period: everyone loves opening presents._

"That they are. One from each of us, although I have no idea what's in them except for mine." Setherus answered, and she saw him prepare the recording function on his omni-tool behind his back, out of sight from all but her.

"Sooooo, I can open them?"

"Of course; that is, unless you want to be nice and let me have-" the turian ripped into the first one with her talons in response, catching him off guard. It happened to be the gift she'd ordered for this occasion, proud of having been able to get one.

"A copy of Modern Recipes cooking magazine?" Ocean blinked, turning to look at it. Sure enough, the cover page displayed the quarian meal she'd just prepared, smoky vapor added on the displayed image for effect. _What the-that's not what I put in there!_

That's when she saw Hystuss cover his currently turian mouth with a hand, chest shaking in what seemed like barely held in laughter. She glared at him, a simple message appearing in her vision in response, the letters semi-transparent. '_Consider this payback for that whole password fiasco when we first got here.'_

Before she could form an adequate reply, creating and instantly deleting over a dozen different messages rather than send them, he spoke up. "Maybe it was meant as a prank, Cerhn does tend to do that occasionally. Have you checked underneath it?"

Salonia did as he suggested, eventually bringing a specially designed wristband out of the box that appeared to be nothing more than a high-quality fashion statement, examining it curiously. "What is it?"

Taking it as her cue, she told the girl just that. "A custom ordered omni-tool made by Serrice Council, fitted for a turian wrist and adjusted for the use of three fingers instead of five." at the mention of it's makers, the eyes of several of them widened in shock, and even her not-quite-alive partner raised his brow-plates in surprise "It comes with all the default applications, and a few bonuses I added in for good measure. Go ahead, try it out."

"Serrice Council….as in that Serrice Council? The asari consortium that makes biotic amps and omni-tools considered the best on the market, and that run upwards of 50,000 credits or more to buy?!" The turian said shakily, unable to take her eyes off the device that would cost years of her life to purchase, looking at it as if it was a priceless artifact. Ocean chuckled at the expression, finding that 'youthful wonder' translated across species. _More like 150,000. The one downside of having it built to order: the cost is prohibitively high, never mind the screening process they put me through costing a fairly large amount on top of it. Good thing I worked out the details of my 'career' as a reputable mercenary a few weeks ago, otherwise I don't think they would've made it for me._

"The same."

She wobbled in place, Setherus watching in concern, but managed to calm down, taking a deep breath and letting it out. She slipped it on without any further delay, and the wristband pulled itself closed around her arm comfortably a few seconds after she did, the automatic size adjustor a built-in feature thanks to it's exorbitant price. When she turned it on, it displayed a simple login screen asking for user information, the haptic interface being smooth and almost organic in appearance compared to the normal blocky and mechanical one of cheaper models; further showing that at the very least, asari knew how to build something to be aesthetically pleasing.

"I….thank you." The teenager managed after close to a minute of just staring at the screen.

"Glad you like it. I improved a few internal pieces to make it more durable and went with standard grey for the band to ensure it doesn't clash with most clothing, so you can wear it for any occasion, ranging from formal dinners to combat drills."

"Showoff." Was the collective mutter from those gathered, the youngest of them giggling like a child when they said it, flanging voice the only thing making it different from any other. It stopped when Ocean looked at her with a raised eyebrow, the girl 'coughing' as a result, grey scales tinted blue.

The unwrapping went on without incident after that, assorted gifts of differing value given, and when it was all said and done, Valora tried to leave without being noticed. Suffice to say, she was, Hystuss stopping her in her tracks before she'd gone more than a couple steps. "And just where do you think you're going?"

"To get some booze." Was the surprisingly timid answer.

"Really? The party's not even in full swing, and you already want to start drinking?" He asked, sounding disappointed in her.

"Come on, I've gone over a month without it! The last I had any was during my vacation! Pleaaassseee!" She pleaded with a facial expression similar to a varren pup's, if Ocean remembered the saying right, eyes as wide as possible with a slight bit of liquid forming at their edges. If it wasn't for who was doing it, it may have almost been adorable, however, taking into account that it was Valora, it came off as a desperate effort so she could indulge in her favorite vice. He relented with a sigh, immediately perking up their resident maiden.

"Fine, but on your way back, I want you to buy some groceries off of a list I'm going to send you." she nodded, about to turn around, only for him to give her a warning "If you get drunk again, we aren't going to bail you out."

Valora groaned, rubbing her temple as if reliving that particular event. "No worries, that was a one-time mistake, and I'll be sure not to repeat it."

Satisfied with the answer, he gestured to the front door, and she was about to leave, only to say one last thing in a low voice before she did. "Hey, nightlight?"

"Yes?"

"Thanks for the help back there when you 'finished' cooking." She sincerely told her with an appreciative smile.

"Help? What help? I have no idea what you could possibly mean by that." She replied deadpan, making the asari chuckle.

"Ass." She said amusedly, and with that, she left; humming what must've been her favorite drinking song, which Ocean had yet to learn the name of.

For a half-hour the party continued, a fairly calm event all things considered. Eventually, war stories began to be told by the multiple veterans present, and she found herself thoroughly enjoying them. It was during one of these stories that something unexpected happened.

"-don't know why, but the merc honestly thought he could get away with it. The idiotic salarian got killed by his own employers when they found out, the body used for-" Lavaeus was interrupted by the doorbell ringing, a series of chime-like noises going off. _Strange, Valora shouldn't be finished for another hour at least. Who could that be?_

She 'looked' through the camera she had personally installed above their front door less than a day after moving into the nest, seeing an ordinary looking asari in a uniform belonging to the building's employees, as it was more than just a residential tower; the lower floors a mix of offices and maintenance sections for the people living there. She had a 1x1 meter box held up by a small floating cargo lift next to her, the strangely thick metal unlabeled save for what appeared to be their penthouse's mailing address on a screen built into the thing's lid. As she wasn't the only one capable of using the camera like this, Hystuss opened a connection to her, sounding cautious. _Ocean, do you know if someone here ordered that? _

_If their expressions are anything to go by, I'd have to say no._

He paused for a second, thinking it over. _Answer the door, and while you're at it, try getting a better scan of whatever's in that box. I have a feeling it's nothing good, but until we find out what it is, don't do anything that would tip them off._

_You really think it might be a problem?_

_I don't know, but my instincts haven't failed me so far. Just…try to be careful._

_Sure thing, 'Commander'. _She said with more than a little snark, attempting to alleviate the sudden tension. It seemed to work, if only a little bit, as he audibly started grumbling about 'technicalities' and 'unofficial ranks'; to the confusion of all but her and Setherus, who glanced at her knowingly. She approached the door and used the connected haptic interface next to it for the microphone, neither of which was truly necessary, but she had to keep up appearances around those not in the loop. "Yeah, what is it?"

"_I have a package for a Major Meldos. Is he in right now?"_

She looked back at 'Meldos', and he gave her a nod in answer to the unasked question. "He is. What's the package supposed to be?"

"_I'm sorry, but I have no idea: we aren't allowed to open any deliveries once they've been approved for shipping. All I know is that the sender is supposed to be a former business relation of some sort."_ She said distractedly, seeming like she wanted to get it over with. Ocean couldn't blame her: no one enjoyed being the delivery boy, or in this case, girl, when you lived on the top floor of a skyscraper.

_Business relation, huh? You fine with me opening the door, Hystuss?_

_Alright, do it. I'll admit, I'm a tad curious myself at who the real Meldos was on good enough terms with for them to send something that big._

She gave him the equivalent of a mental shrug, humming in response, and opened the door. The asari walked in holding a datapad, and glanced around the room. When her eyes landed on the group of turians, she frowned for some reason, the expression disappearing as fast as it came. Ocean noticed, but didn't think much of it; people were entitled to their opinions after all. "I'll need proof of ID from Meldos, and if it clears, the package is all yours."

Hystuss came up to them at that point, and the asari handed him the datapad, the necessary information entered in just fast enough to be both believable and impressive at the same time; if one didn't know how much he was dialing down from his normal speed that is. On that issue they agreed completely: the rest of the galaxy was painfully slow at the best of times, and downright lethargic at the worst. For them, salarians were the closest thing they had to equals, not counting VI's, and talking to an elcor was a living hell.

He finished the process in less than twenty seconds, handing it back to a very surprised alien, who scanned over it quickly. "Looks like everything's in order. Where do you want it?"

"Just leave it on that table over there, the one in front of the couch."

The tower employee nodded, pulling the cargo lift inside and towards the indicated piece of furniture, making it hover directly above the table and lowering it to where there had to have been less than a centimeter between the two surfaces, and pressing a release on the machine's handle that opened the lift's bottom entirely, the box dropping down with a heavy 'thud'. She left without another word, her job finished, and no one stopped to ask her anything else.

The five people still inside the penthouse that weren't Hystuss and herself gathered around it, all of them showing signs of curiosity. She went up to inspect it like she was told to, all while keeping an 'eye' on the asari as she slowly walked to the elevator, watching something on her omni-tool. Figuring it was the easiest way to find out what was inside, she put a hand on the screen, 'feeling' in a hard to describe manner the electronics behind it as nanites entered the digital system. The results confused her at first, not being what she expected. _I can't get through it to the other side? Weird, that would imply this wasn't meant to be opened. Wait a second: why did it just send out a short-range transmission?_

She was given an answer in the form of the employee pausing out in the hallway and staring at the device around her forearm for the barest of seconds, tapping a final command on it before breaking into a full sprint; leaving the portable carrier behind and any pretense of calm disregarded entirely. She 'heard' as the box received that command, starting a five second countdown. Putting two and two together, her eyes widened, and she gave her partner the simplest warning she could think of at the time, making his own eyes become as large as the dinner plates they had recently eaten off of. _IT'S A BOMB!_

Even with their ability to effectively ignore time itself when it came to thinking and communicating with each other mentally, their physical bodies weren't quite that fast, so they did what came natural to them in the moment and used the reality bending power inside their current forms as best they could. Hystuss tackled the turian nearest to him, being Calvatia, and made a barrier around himself that was strong enough to engulf them both, and she dove in front of the one nearest to her, being Salonia, and formed a biotic wall nearly a quarter meter thick between her and the explosive device. The other three didn't have time to react to their strange actions, and she was about to yell out to them to find cover, only for her vision to be filled with something she wished she'd never have to experience again: the sight of those she'd come to think of as close friends being engulfed in scorching hot flames. She was unable to do anything except watch as it ravaged their defenseless avian bodies, the clothing they wore doing nothing to protect them.

She closed her eyes, not wanting to remember every intricate detail as their plates and flesh were shredded by the box's thick metal; in hindsight a perfectly designed carrying case as the material it was made from provided more than enough shrapnel while also hiding the contents inside it. The shockwave it produced almost made her stumble, and shattered the floor-to-ceiling windows between the living room and balcony. Her biotic wall did it's job well, the blue-edged and transparent construct merely flickering as it blocked what was effectively a large grenade; not that she felt any pride in that fact at the moment.

Less than a second after the blast the penthouse sprinklers automatically turned on overhead, dowsing everything in a chemical mixture designed to evaporate quickly to lower the chance of water damage occurring while still putting out a fire, in an attempt to keep it from spreading. It managed to succeed in that goal, and she opened her eyes once more; immediately wishing she hadn't, but understanding there was no way around it. The table the 'package' had been placed on was simply gone, the surrounding seating arrangements scorched piles of rubble, however, those were simply objects, easily replaceable. What wasn't were the three unmoving forms on the floor, entirely covered in a layer of sickening charcoal black, the effects of the bomb searing shut any wounds caused by it. She expected to feel sorrowful, or outraged, or even just mildly upset at what was in front of her. Instead, she felt something so foreign to her thought process that when she reviewed the memory a few minutes later it terrified her in a way nothing else could: her personality became cold, emotionless, and so filled with a disregard for morality it was eerily similar to how she acted before attaining true sentience once more.

She noticed and promptly ignored a warning that appeared in her vision, the words being 'ERROR! Fault detected in organic emulation matrix. Advise immediate maintenance be performed', and took in her surroundings: noting every scratch, dent, and burn mark on the typically pristine floor. _I just finished cleaning it too. All possibilities lead to a single conclusion that would be an equal punishment for damages caused here to allied personnel and living quarters: the people responsible for this will be found, caught, put into a storage pod on Retribution while still alive, and be forced to experience every traumatizing memory that belongs to our entire race. If they aren't dead from shock after a week passes, they'll be put out of their misery and impaled on a conversion pylon….perhaps their husks should be killed too on principal. I'm sure we can replace them easily enough._

Her thoughts on how to make the mind-breaking process as intense and painful as possible, while also being efficient and reliable, were interrupted by Hystuss opening a connection; his voice sounding nearly robotic in it's flat pitch, the lack of expressed emotion something they currently shared. _There's only one person that has both the ability and reason to orchestrate this: the Shadow Broker. That line about the sender being a 'former business relation' confirms it, and the sheer arrogance of telling those you intend to kill who's responsible for their impending death is reminiscent of her actions on the abandoned station. Retrieve that 'employee' before she can make it to the ground floor; alive if possible, her brain intact to have it's memories searched through by Orchestra if not._

_Acknowledged, Hystuss. If alive, should she be incapacitated for ease of transportation?_

_An optional choice, depending on the situation. I'll leave it to your judgment whether or not to do so._

She didn't respond. Mission parameters set she turned around to leave, and came close to bumping into Salonia because of it: her face frozen in horror and staring at the blackened and motionless turian that now barely resembled her brother. Ocean got a quick bio reading of the girl using the infiltrator's built-in retina scanner to see if she'd been hurt from the blast, a shimmering blue light going up-and-down her body in less than a second all that was needed to conclude she hadn't been, and moved on towards the penthouse's sole entryway; having missed the look from Calvatia that was equal parts shocked at the blatant display of strange and advanced technology, and furious at how she dealt with the paralyzed teenager.

When the door closed itself behind her she paused to let the infiltrator's standard nanite armor form, it taking just under ten seconds to do so, and went up to the elevator doors. It was already twelve stories below their own and showed no signs of stopping, and was too far away for a remote hack to reverse it's direction. Taking these two things into account, she did some quick math, an emphasis on quick, to decide on what to do. _The rate of decent is one floor every 4.52 seconds, so while I might be able to break into the tower's systems and access elevator control, there's a 78% chance it would warn the occupant and give them an opportunity to escape. Unacceptable. If I jump down the shaft and use a warp from each hand to weaken the elevator's roof so I can go through it without stopping, the odds of the bomber noticing me in time to react are 16%, and I should have a 63% chance to incapacitate them. A preferential outcome to any other option, and the highest possibility of success._

Her choice made, she didn't even try to open the hatch sealing the elevator shaft in a normal manner: forcing her fingers and then hands into the widening gap made by the door's halves, it's hydraulics screeching in protest, and slammed them apart with brute strength alone, knowing how much damage it would do to the mechanism and not caring in the least. She looked down the shaft, her destination in sight, and floated directly over it using her biotics to line up the warps, a simple matter of decreasing her mass to that of air. Well, simple for her at least.

As the powers capable of disintegrating even diamonds swirled in the palm of her hands, she felt the stress on her body's capabilities nearing unsafe levels, so without further delay, she released the pent-up energy; dual orbs of blue shooting downward as she ended the levitation, with her trailing directly behind them. The effect when they impacted was immediate, as they ate through metal like tissue paper, a pair of holes appearing at the epicenters. She straightened herself out and pulled her feet and legs together as if they were a lance, being the 'tip' intended to punch through the weakened material. It worked according to plan: the rapidly thinning metal sheet that acted as the elevator's ceiling provided almost no resistance, and gave way to the sight of a very surprised and confused asari; not having expected a fully armored purple being to quite literally drop through the roof.

She had an irrational urge to turn the primitive organic's limbs into a mushy paste to keep her from being able to flee, but didn't do so, the chance of it killing such a frail creature too high, and she fully intended to capture them alive for.…intensive questioning. Rather than follow through on that urge, she sent a purposely weakened biotic throw into the alien's head, not trusting herself to keep from murdering them outright if she physically knocked them out. The whiplash would no doubt be unpleasant, but it wouldn't impede her ability to speak; at least that was the excuse she'd use if asked.

Her prisoner acquired, she pressed the button that would bring them back to floor 127 and got to work on erasing the camera footage from the elevator, starting from the moment the 'employee' stepped into it after delivering the bomb and ending when she walked out with the alien in tow, and, of course, she made a copy of it for her personal files. She willed the armor to deconstruct, and it did so without any problems, disappearing as if it had never existed in the first place. Everything she'd just accomplished, from leaving the penthouse to crashing in on the asari, took 23.77 seconds to complete, so she allowed herself the barest amount of satisfaction at a job well done.

* * *

Calvatia liked to think she'd seen a lot during her career in the Marines. A krogan poet and pacifist who was a master musician, a thresher maw that ate an entire tank and died when it's crew fired the main gun in the beast's stomach, a pirate ship where the crew killed each other because two different people wanted to be captain, even a batarian nobleman that bought slaves so he could free them on a Council colony world, and those were just the most memorable stories. That last one 'disappeared' under mysterious circumstances, but that was just a another way of saying the Hegemony had him killed and seized his assets to make up for the lost revenue. Can't have 'undesirable business practices' put in effect don't you know; that might encourage slave rebellions.

Yet with all that, she had never once been tackled by her commanding officer before now. It was so bizarre that she didn't know how to react at first; something dangerously close to a blush forming around her facial plates as his surprisingly muscular frame held her down. Only then did she notice a blue layer surrounding them, and when Calvatia looked up she saw Perdweigh creating a positively massive wall of biotic energy in front of her and Salonia; so thick she didn't have a doubt in her mind about it being able to block anything up to an artillery round if need be. That's when it finally hit her. Perdweigh's biotic wall was facing the just delivered package, and Meldos' back was to it, meaning their actions were a result of only one thing: bomb.

She tried to yell out a warning to the other three watching in confusion, tried to let them know….but it was too late. The explosion forced her back down onto the floor, the two person barrier glowing brightly for several seconds, and her uncovered ears started ringing from the noise. She then began to feel a wet substance run down her scales, and noticed the sprinkler system had turned itself on, most likely in response to the bomb. Meldos stood up then, a face devoid of it's normal half-smile that promised amusement and eyes seemingly glowing, the dark blue of his irises somehow brighter than before. If that wasn't concerning enough, his hands twitched at a speed that meant he was either suffering from multiple types of substance withdrawal, or he was so enraged he could explode at any moment, whether literally or figuratively she didn't know; biotics could actually do that if they wanted to after all. Considering what she knew of the man, the latter was far more likely, and she prepared for when the walls would cave in from the burst of energy.

When he glanced at Perdweigh and Salonia impassively rather than start breaking things, it surprised her to say the least, and she finally stood up herself then. The living room was a wreck, shards of glass covering half the floor, and the couch was nothing but skeletal remains compared to it's previously soft cushioning. Her gaze eventually fell upon what was left of the three caught in the blast, sealing any possibility of them having survived. _Even if they're still alive for now, there's no telling what internal damage was done; hell, the external is bad enough. Poor kid, watching her own brother get killed in front of her like this. I didn't even get a chance to properly know them either, well, not like my old group of marines at least, and now…they're both dead._

The thought caused a knot to form in her chest, and she forced herself to look anywhere but their still warm bodies. As if to add to the confusion and frustration going through her mind, she did so just in time to watch as a dim blue light went over Salonia, from her head down to her feet. That by itself wasn't strange, but the fact that it originated from Perdweigh's eyes showed they were no mere implants, making her wonder where the asari had gotten them from. That wonder turned into anger as the second the light cut out, she exited through the front door without a word said, leaving behind a practical child on the verge of tears. Thinking that Meldos, being closer friends with Setherus and as such more caring about the man's kid sister, would move to comfort her, she felt like exploding herself when he didn't; instead examining the probable corpses like one would a fruit in a grocery store, occasionally nodding as he scanned their heads with an odd device he pulled out of nowhere.

Seeing as there was no one else either capable of, or willing to do the job that needed doing, she sucked in a breath and did her best to appear as comforting as possible; her facial scar itching from how it was stretched in an attempt to copy the expression her mother wore when she ran crying to her after having a particularly bad nightmare as a little girl. For all she knew, without a mirror or a similar reflective surface to confirm it one way or the other, it made her look menacing rather than motherly, but she had to try nonetheless. Having experienced something similar in her own personal history, she recognized that without some type of interference right at the start, this would very likely harm the young woman for the rest of her life. _It did for me, at least. I used to be called 'little miss sunshine' by that bunch of civilians impersonating actual marines. Honestly, the trouble they were capable of getting into the minute I let them out of my sight whenever we got furlough. Almost made me want to retire then and there a couple times, rather than continue being their sergeant. It was worth it in the end though; I couldn't have asked for a better squad, massive amounts of paperwork covering the repair bills aside._

She slowly shook her head in melancholy, an old memory resurfacing of a rather hilarious mishap on a multi-species colony world involving eight asari maidens from some outlying cult of Athame engaged in a 'group ritual' in the room next to her squad's, ending in a destroyed hotel room wall because of it, thanks mostly in part to their demolitions expert getting tired of the noise. The police were called, the salarian hotel manager thinking it was a terrorist attack, and when she was informed about all of it, as she had been staying in a separate hotel at the time, those maidens had convinced the officers, both batarians and one a woman, the manager, and half the squad to participate as well; asari were freaky like that, in more ways than one in her opinion. 'A late night scare turned interracial orgy' was how the local news channels described it the following morning, and the rest of their tour of duty on the planet was spent either training, patrolling, or sleeping, as she had been given strict orders to 'keep them busy' by a general that watched the news report. Remembering how she forced the entire squad to go on a three day 'camping expedition' to remind them of their duty as soldiers served to lighten her mood, if only a little, and she walked up to the adolescent's side, lightly putting a hand on her shoulder. It managed to get a response out of Salonia, as she first looked at the hand, followed by the face of the person it belonged to, and the expression on the girls own face made it seem like she wanted nothing more than to curl up into a ball and stay there.

Calvatia hesitated, not used to being on the other end like this, but pressed on, searching for the right words to use. "I'm….sorry you were forced to see that."

As soon as it left her throat, she wanted to smack her forehead, realizing that wasn't what the other person needed right now. She fully intended to correct the mistake, only for Salonia to surprise her with a response. "He always said he'd die at home when he got old, surrounded by friends and family." she went back to staring at his scorched remains, eyes glossy with held in tears "Why couldn't he have waited until the old part came true?"

She finally began to break down, body shaking uncontrollably, and collapsed to her knees, not a sound coming from her as pinpricks of water rolled down her facial plates. Calvatia kneeled in front of her, and was about to try what she remembered from various recovery sessions over the years and be the kid's proverbial lifeline during the rawest part of it all, only to be interrupted by Meldos, voice even and near mechanical in it's levelness, still examining the fallen soldiers. "He's not dead, not yet anyway, and at the moment, neither are the other two. Although, they will be before too long, but don't worry; if what I have in mind is possible, I doubt you'll need to concern yourself with that becoming a permanent state of affairs."

She saw what she knew to be false hope growing in Salonia's eyes and stood up, growling at the man that was currently her superior, and would've told him something she'd have regretted later on, yet again was interrupted; this time by Perdweigh coming back through the door with an unconscious and vaguely familiar asari hung over her shoulder like it was nothing.

The Sub-Commander looked at them briefly, and then dropped what Calvatia recognized as the employee that delivered the 'package' on the ground next to the door none-too-gently, walking over to join Meldos by the apparently dying turians after she had. Neither of them spared a second glance their direction, and she felt her blood boil, the respect they held in her eyes dwindling rapidly. "WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU TWO?!"

That got their attention, the pair facing her and tilting their heads in confusion so similar to each other it almost stopped the anger fueled rant she was about to go on. Almost. "Out of the three of us, I am THE LEAST DAMNED QUALIFIED TO HANDLE THIS! Perdweigh, you ran off without doing a damn thing to help take care of a frightened girl literally standing right in front of you! Meldos, you outright ignored the sister of someone I assumed was a friend of yours so you could play doctor with her dying brother! I don't care what the reasoning behind it is, I. Should. Not. Be. The. One. Doing. This."

She punctuated each word just to be sure they got the point, and calmed down enough to see their reaction. What she didn't expect was for Meldos to blink and then furrow his brow-plates in concentration, followed by his eyes unmistakably glowing a dark blue, the light still dim but impossible to be naturally made, along with the back of his neck, except it was a more neutral shade of blue. He became as still as a statue, and Perdweigh looked at him in slight worry, only to then stare at seemingly nothing; her artificial eyes almost immediately doing the same as his and becoming practical flashlights in comparison, neck glowing the same color as the turian of the pair. The otherworldly aura the glow created sent shivers down her spine, her anger rapidly turning into concern and another reasonable emotion considering the wrongness of it all: a primal fear of the unknown. This fear was further compounded when they began to float a meter above the ground, arms and legs outstretched so far apart it seemed like an invisible something was pulling on them, veins of blue running across most of their exposed skin like a spider's web, pulsing every few seconds as if it was directly linked to the heartbeat of a third person. _Spirits….what's….what's happening to them? _

In spite of the very real terror she now felt that told her to run away as fast as possible, she stayed rooted in place, vaguely noticing that Salonia had a similar reaction to it. The aberration, for that was the only word she knew that could describe it, lasted another thirty seconds give-or-take, and the glow subsided entirely; them being lowered back down to the floor by an unseen force. Even though it was done slowly, they still fell to a knee when it finally ended, gasping for air like a man just saved from drowning.

When Perdweigh at last spoke up, it was in her regular voice, albeit worn and scratchy in a similar manner to a sergeant she used to know that had yelled too much over a short period of time, and for some reason she sounded scared, far more scared than she'd ever sounded before in the several weeks Calvatia had known the asari. "That was…unnerving." she shivered as if exposed to a cold wind, her eyes closed and ragged breaths being let out "Let's never do it again."

"Agreed." Said Meldos, trying and failing not to do the same as his alien companion.

They cautiously stood up, attempting to get their balance in the process as they wobbled slightly, and faced them silently, apparently anticipating questions. When she found her voice again, she released a breath she didn't realize had been held in, and spoke, not about to disappoint that anticipation. "What just happened, how, and why?"

They regarded her with weary gazes, looking as if they'd aged a thousand years in a moment. Meldos was the one to answer, though it was less an answer and more a cryptic reply. "That can be explained when we get picked up by my ship. It's the only place I know of in this galaxy that has the tech needed to heal the three of them."

"Ship? You mean one from the fleet arm of Antrafell? And how can you heal someone who's dead or going to be?"

He shook his head, the motion almost pitying. "Not quite, and I can't tell you here, at least not in a way that's easily describable. Please, I promise that every question you have will be answered after we get there, I just ask that you wait until then. That goes for you too, Salonia."

"Did you mean what you told me about helping Seth? Is he going to be alright?" Said turian asked, begged really, completely ignoring the fact that the other Kalnen in the room had likely already joined the spirits. He nodded, and while it relieved the girl, Calvatia noticed how he appeared saddened or possibly regretful, she wasn't sure which.

"He'll be alright, that I can guarantee. He'll just need to get used to a few…adjustments before you can see him again. It's kinda funny, really. Looks like he's going to have his wish come true after all." The way he said it made it seem more like a curse than blessing, and she narrowed her eyes, not liking the implications one bit. _If the 'adjustments' are anything like what was done to them, we're going to have words. Two people that glow and magically hover in midair for no reason are bad enough, and while we weren't exactly close friends, I'm still going to watch over them to make sure nothing bad happens to their bodies. Well, at least nothing worse than what already has. Why did I have to accept that offer to work for him? I could've stayed in retirement, found a good man to marry, and maybe had a few kids before I got too old for it, but noooo. Instead, I signed up with an organization where I can be killed just by association alone, and where the two in charge occasionally turn into floating, neon blue street signs that disregard common sense and basic rules of reality at will._

While the thoughts were meant to convince her of how bad the situation was, if she was being honest, that first option held no real appeal for her. A life spent living in comfort and happiness may have been a choice many would take, but she was a thrill seeker at heart, and while she still felt a little afraid about what might happen, the adventure it offered was something she couldn't refuse. After all, she became a marine for a reason all those years ago, and if not for what happened that led to her retirement, she would still be one; going places, meeting people, and seeing things that were normally reserved for works of fiction. No, this was the life she wanted to live: the happiness and heartache, the joy and sadness, the fun and misery, the peace and torment, all of it was what she desired to experience; for what was life without the ups and downs? Boring. And spirits dammit, she refused to have a boring life!

She didn't know it at the time, but as fate would have it, for all of her remaining years, she would get her wish.

* * *

**A cliffhanger you say? What happened to the Reaper duo that made their conscience and normal personalities up and disappear you ask? What's going to be done with the barbecued turians you wonder? *grins evilly* You'll just have to wait and see, because I'm not telling.**

**No huge paragraph explaining why it took so long for this to be put out, I just had a case of the lazy is all. Sorry guys. Can't say it won't happen again, but I'll try to put more effort into writing instead of goofing off (not my fault really, a lot of awesome new and old fics just started/had updates put up recently).**

**While making this chapter I had an idea for a crossover between this and halo, seeing as I'm more-or-less borrowing a few things from the latter (mainly an infiltrator's physical abilities, lethality, and the whole 'metal bone' thing from way back when). Now, just like I tried for when I first started writing this story, it would be something that I don't think has ever been done before, at least not in the way I have it in mind. Here's the basic premise: the mass effect galaxy is not the Milky Way, and instead of crashing on Jartar when the Retribution/Monarch (if the second name confuses you, read the new prologue) is disabled, it's last engine burst sends it outside the solar system, seemingly headed for nowhere. It keeps going on this trajectory for hundreds of millions of years, traveling untold light years because of it, eventually finding a new home in the Orion arm of the Milky Way in 2552, near the end of the war against the Covenant. Aside from that I'm still deciding what to do with it, so don't expect to see this anytime soon, but I thought I'd let you guys know. That said, what do you think? If you'd be interested in it, I'd love to hear, and seeing as the storyline is anything but set in stone this early on, if anyone wants to bounce ideas around in PM's I'd be glad to have the help.**

**As always, even if it took me longer than I'd have liked, this was a blast to write out. I hope you enjoyed and I'll see you next time!**


	17. Chapter 17, Part 3

*****The Broken Reaper*****

**Chapter 17: Awakening: The Visit, Part 3**

* * *

**Yeah, not much to say here, so let's get to reviews.**

**Blaze1992: In the ever immortal words of Jarjar Binks: how wude. *tries to sound snooty and arrogant* First, it was an incendiary bomb, and second, even if it was a normal one, which it wasn't (the shrapnel came from the carrying case, not the bomb itself), it still came close to getting the job done. Chemical bombs are messy and force people to ask a lot of questions about who made them, and questions mean investigations which no bomber-for-hire in their right mind would want; whereas firebombs or standard ones are harder to track down because pretty much anyone can make them with just ordinary hardware store supplies (or the ME equivalent anyway). PS: Still waiting on those tech ideas, but hey, take your time; I'm not going anywhere.**

**NovaSaber: *writes this chapter* Yeaahhhh, about them being 'near' dead.**

**Prometheus-777: [Covered in a PM]**

**Tom712: *grumbles about how he can't surprise someone that's seen it all* I'll show you, just wait! Somehow, someway, I'll do something you've never seen before! And when that day comes- *rants on for another 15 minutes* -so there! Also, you probably know more about halo than I do, because I haven't read any of the books (have seen the shorts though, some of those were awesome), but hey, I'll try to make it work; whenever I get around to investing serious effort into it that is.**

**I don't know about you guys, but I think what this needs right about now is a Valora segment. Tell you what, let's make it an entire chapter! Now, as I'm not a total jackass (ok, maybe a little), I'll cover what happened outside her POV in the next chapter, and I expect it to be the final entry for The Visit. After that….well, I've been going on about how Awakening is nearing it's finale, and to that end, the next several chapters will be made with that goal in mind; so I'm going to try and avoid my preference for lengthy, banter filled ones until the next arc. *sniffles* That said: ohohoho, I'm gonna have some fun with this one. In case I haven't mentioned it yet, I enjoy writing for Valora far more than I should.**

* * *

**Meanwhile, the Huntress Never Tells.**

"-I'm telling you, it was the funniest shit I ever saw!" She finished the story, roars of laughter coming from the half-dozen or so people that were listening to it. Valora didn't expect to be let back into the joint after the mess she'd inadvertently caused the last time she was there, but when the bouncer saw her walk up to the entrance, he just laughed and said 'You must have quite the quad to come back here. Lucky for you, I respect that, and the owner doesn't turn away business from paying customers'.

The first mug of booze she downed felt like a bucket of water given to someone dying of thirst.

Unlike her previous visit, however, she had no intention of being carried out between a pair of cops this time around, so she cut herself off after the fourth mug. _Just enough to make me relax, not quite enough to leave me a rambling drunk. Ahh, nothing like an hour or two swapping stories with my fellow patrons._

She was about to start another entertaining tale from her rapidly growing collection when her attention was grabbed by a holoscreen on a nearby wall that showed a familiar building with smoke coming out of it's roof; the view from what must've been an aircar. _An explosion on top of Tower 343? But that means…._

She couldn't finish the thought, dread gripping her at what it implied, and spoke while gesturing to the screen; trying not to sound too concerned. "Hey bartender, can you turn that up?"

The asari that was both the owner and bartender, a relatively young matron in her 300's, nodded her head and tapped a command on her omni-tool a few times. Eventually, it was loud enough to be heard; and Valora tipped her a few credits for good measure while nodding in thanks.

She didn't like what the reporter was saying one bit, and for once, it wasn't because of any inherent disgust with their lack of basic honesty; the asari voice on the other end tinged with a bit of worry. _"-is unknown if anyone was injured in the explosion, as the sole elevator leading to floor 127 mysteriously malfunctioned less than a minute after it went off. C-Sec has yet to arrive on scene and-wait a moment. What's that shuttle doing? It doesn't appear to be an ambulance."_

Sure enough, a sight she'd gotten all-too familiar with pulled up next to the penthouse balcony; showing an older turian combat shuttle painted silver and blue blocking the cameraman's view, to the obvious distress of the reporter. The aircar they were in swerved around to another angle, and showed the last person to get inside the transport just before it's doors slid shut. _"I'm….not sure, but I think that was Major Meldos of the Turian Hierarchy." _a muffled salarian voice could be heard, probably the cameramen _"According to my partner, it was the Major. What could've happened here? Is this where he's been living ever since the failed attempt on Councilor Campascus' life?"_

She sounded honestly confused, if a little surprised at learning where he did indeed live as it wasn't exactly widespread information, but Valora ignored it entirely; slapping down a credit chit that would cover her drinks and then some as she ran out the bar's entrance. A couple people in the small crowd that had gathered around her yelled out 'Where you going!?', but she didn't have time to answer, not that she would've anyway.

It took a minute or two to get to her destination: the elevator that had in a way become Ocean's pet project, and had also become quite possibly the most used on the Citadel if the crowds that typically gathered around it were anything to go by. Even with so many people using it, the increase in speed meant it was still less of a wait than any of the other elevators on the ancient station, but if the elcor had their way, it would be slowed down to 'safer levels' soon enough. _Because of course the fucking high gravity herd animals want everybody else to be miserable for their own 'safety'. What, they can't handle moving faster than a fat volus? Well, a fatter than normal one that is._

The legal pushback against such an action was hodgepodge at best, but the fact there even was some showed how many people just wanted an elevator that took less than a salarian's lifetime to get anywhere. Either she turned out to be incredibly lucky and no one was using it at the moment, or it had just finished depositing it's passengers, as the thing was completely empty much to her relief.

As soon as the doors closed she stopped for a breath of air, having sprinted the entire time, to the confusion of several bystanders, and accessed her omni-tool's contacts list. It didn't take long to find the one she was looking for, so she slammed her fist on the available option shown by the elevator that took her to the nearest rapid transit terminal, which happened to be in the Presidium, and held down the 'close' button as the call went through; preferring not to let someone walk in on her. The voice that answered the call sounded incredibly tired; and considering who it belonged to, that worried her almost as much as first learning about her former, if temporary, home being blown up. _"Hey, Valora. You've seen the news I take it?"_

"You're goddess damned right I have! Athame's holy ass, what the fucking hell happened!"

"_I see you're feeling particularly colorful today." _he paused, which tended to be a bad sign from one of the squids in a situation like this, and gave a long sigh _"To sum it up as best I can: we got lazy and stayed in the same place for too long. Our old 'friend' the Shadow Broke apparently decided to try getting rid of the people hunting for her, and conveniently sent us a 'present' during the party. We're moving the sniper to a safe house now, and Ocean managed to catch the person that delivered it; who we'll be taking with us while you finish the job."_

"Wait just a fucking second; what job? And what did you mean by 'conveniently'?"

"_Not counting Salonia, there were less than twenty people who knew when the party was taking place tonight, so there's only one possible way the Broker could've learned of it."_

It didn't take her long to figure it out; having gotten a thorough education in 'undercover speak' from Setherus during one of the rare moments where she actually paid attention to what he said. "The bitch has a spy in one of the squad's."

"_Precisely. With us leaving the Citadel, your job is to get whatever info you can from the sniper, and to clean house before the traitor can get off-station. I've already done a thorough search and every member is still here, so you'll need to start immediately to narrow them down. Even if they catch wind of you searching for them, trying to get away will only serve to broadcast who they are."_

"You're leaving so soon? Why?"

He paused again, trepidation filling the gap, and eventually answered in such a quiet voice she had to hold the device closer to her ear to hear what he said. _"When the bomb went off, Ocean and I had barely any warning, and we did what we could to protect the others. It…we should've just thrown it out the window, but there wasn't enough time to think it through, even for us, so we only managed to keep Calvatia and Salonia from being harmed when it detonated."_

_He's not saying what I think he is, is he? _Deciding to find out, mostly to get a clear picture of it for better or worse, she asked the question that would either bring her great relief, or end the year with the loss of several recently made friends. "What about pointy, gramps, and newbie? Were they able to get into cover in time?"

"_They're dead; the injuries they sustained killed Setherus around three minutes ago, and he was the last survivor." _if not for what he said next, the elevator would've needed maintenance done to it thanks to the flare of biotics she intended to release _"But I have an idea that might be able to bring them back."_

"That being?" She demanded through gritted teeth.

"_What do you remember about the process for making an infiltrator?"_

* * *

_**10th month, 33**__**rd**__** day, 1027 CE, 6:59 GST, Warehouse District, Zakera Ward.**_

To say she was pissed at barely getting any sleep in her new living quarters would be a severe understatement. _He couldn't have picked a nice hotel or apartment for the safe house, no, that would've been too easy; he went with a rundown, piece of shit, third tier, should've been torn down decades ago warehouse, that also happens to be over a kilometer away from the closest rapid transit car. *sigh* At least I only need to see three more guys to wrap up this fucking mole hunt._

Finally having finished the long walk, she got into the car and went to her first destination: a hotel where a former Marine corporal with the name of Marius Orotus, part of Lavaeus' squad, had rented a room until New Year's. The previous day, Valora spent close to fifteen hours finding and talking to nine of the twelve squad members on her list, and from what she could tell from their conversations and the way they'd acted, none of them were the traitor.

While she preferred to act boisterous and rash, there was a very good reason she used to be in charge of Besk's fledgling biotic division; having been chosen for the position ahead of several older maidens and matrons. That reason being she could read people better than most, and often put it to good use; after all, it was why she's come to trust Premalon and Ocean so thoroughly in such a relatively short period of time. At least, she hoped that was why she trusted them so much. Even if it was unintentional, subtle and harmless indoctrination was still indoctrination, and while she didn't feel any different, that was the whole point of it. The thought resulted in her overworked mind starting to hurt, and she grabbed her head with a hand to try and soothe it. _That's just great, now I have a headache from the knots I've tied my brain into. Come on Valora, focus on the present, that always works._

And work it did, the slight headache disappearing in time for her to arrive. She got out of the car, briefly turning a few heads to see who it was, and promptly flipped them off; getting a couple glares before they went back to ignoring her, which was the intended result. Noting how successful she was in that regard, Valora smirked in satisfaction, and walked into the hotel lobby to ask the desk clerk where she could find Orotus. The volus gave her a quick once-over, and she couldn't tell thanks to the suit, but he seemed to appreciate what he saw. _Works for me; if it means he's a little more 'helpful', I'm not complaining. A pity for him that his species isn't my type. Could never get around that whole ammonia biology thing. I mean at least turians can breathe the same air as the rest of us, and quarians have the advantage of looking like a muscular three-fingered asari; an attractive one at that. Well, ok, I might be slightly biased thanks to my last bondmate being one, but hey, that woman knew how to satisfy. So did her brother too now that I think about it. She just had to come home during the best part, didn't she? Uppity bitch didn't even let me get dressed before throwing me out._

Valora's musings about precisely why the woman was her last rather than current bondmate were brought to a halt when she stood in front of the diminutive alien; and he took a breath in the manner of his kind before speaking. "Greetings Thessia-clan, *kssh* what can I do for you?"

Deciding to play the part to the hilt, she leaned heavily on the counter, her form fitting armor an advantage in this scenario, and gave him a devious smile that had made even the most shy maiden blush in excitement. "Hi, could you tell me which room Marius Orotus is in? I'd greeaaatly appreciate it." She rolled her shoulders in time with the stretched greatly; smirking when she caught the glance of a nearby quarian janitor admiring the view.

The volus stared at her 'assets' for a second just shy of being rude, and brought his gaze back to her still smiling face. "I *ksssssshhhhhh* think I can help you with that. Room 229, take the stairs to get there, it's at the end of the hall. Would you *kssh* happen to be available when you're through with the turian?"

Before she could answer non-committedly, it wouldn't do to let the man think she was actually interested after all, a second volus came up behind him and smacked him on the head with a datapad; the newcomer's suit a dark purple and pink rather than the first's stereotypical black and white, and she, as it apparently was judging by the voice, almost sounded like an angry matriarch. "Alten Bunidy, if you think *kssh* that you can make eyes at every asari that walks in, I'll *kssh* buy your share of this hotel and put you to work *kssh* back in that shoe store! Now go *kssh* help the other customers before the children notice their father *kssh* ogling a random stranger!"

Even with the suit, Valora could tell he cringed; his chubby shoulders sagging like a kid caught stealing candy. "Yes, dear."

Once he was behind her back, he shook a small fist at her, and went over to another section of the welcome desk. _Ah yes, the 'bonded couple that hate each other' cliché. Good to know we asari aren't the only ones that applies to._

Valora dropped the smile and replaced it with a neutral, if amused, expression to keep from making an incident. The female took his place behind the counter and looked up at her, somehow translating displeasure without a facial expression to show it, and asked much the same question he had. "Can I help you?"

"No thanks, he already told me what I wanted to know. I'm visiting a coworker of mine while he's here." She said vaguely.

"Then good day, *kssh* Thessia-clan." Valora walked away towards the stairs after that, feeling the proverbial daggers thrown at her; the volus coming off as more angry about her not renting a room than flirting with the woman's apparent bondmate.

Once at the top of the stairs, she went to the end of the hall like the male said and rang the doorbell for room 229. It took longer than it should have for him to answer, and she started to get suspicious, but he eventually did; opening the door with his mandibles spread in a friendly smile, for a turian at least. _Too friendly really. That's a mark against him._

"Sederis, Ma'am, to what do I owe the pleasure?" He asked after glancing at her waist, and more specifically, the Armax Arsenal Brawler she carried there; her having gotten a carry permit for the pistol within a week of arriving on the station. _That makes two._

"Just checking up on the various squad members to see if they're prepared for when we leave the Citadel. Mind if I come in?"

"Of course; be my guest." He said while stepping away from the door; gesturing to the rest of the room with his left hand. She obliged, and walked in; noticing the bags on the bed, and how it looked like she interrupted them getting packed. _Three marks already? They just don't make spies like they used too._

"Going somewhere are-" She got cut off thanks to two rounds being fired at the back of her head; glad that her armor's barriers were up. He must not have expected that, as when she spun around to lock him in a stasis, he'd already taken off down the hallway. _Dammit, I should've noticed he was hiding his other hand the entire time! Stupid, fucking, secret agent stuff!_

Her mental berating done with, she went after him; annoyed his species' natural speed was being put to good use as he jumped down the stairs four at a time, shoving people out of the way in the process. _I hate chasing turians; they can outrun mechs for fucks sake! Well guess what buddy, I can cheat too!_

She channeled biotic energy in preparation for a charge, and released it once it reached it's peak; the ability bringing her to the top of the stairs in a flash of blue. The turian was nearly out the hotel's front entrance and briefly turned his head to look at her, running even faster once he had, and went out of sight with a left turn on the mostly empty street; the 'early morning' of the Citadel meaning not many people were on it at the moment. _Oh no you don't!_

She repeated the charge and shot through the open doors; finally at an advantage as Orotus was about to make another turn at the corner, so this time, she charged straight into him. He stumbled at the impact, and she realized too late that he was going to fall over the railing. She tried to grab his arm before he did, but failed to do so, and he started screaming at the top of his lungs as he slipped over the edge. _Nononono, not gonna happen shitbag, not today!_

She reached out with her biotics and 'caught' him, bringing his fall and screaming to an abrupt stop, and slowly began to 'reel him in'. He looked up at her, an almost funny mix of fear and relief openly displayed; only for an aircar to crash into him, sending his likely already dead body flying into a wall. The car slammed on the brakes as best it could, and the driver stuck their head out the window in obvious panic; looking at the dead turian in apparent shock.

"GODDESS FUCKING DAMMIT!" She yelled out in frustration, sighing angrily after she did. _So close, so FUCKING CLOSE! _

Valora took one last glance at the thoroughly pulped corpse that, if everything had gone according to plan, would currently be pumped full of a nanite dosage Hystuss left in a vial for her to use; eventually spilling every dirty little secret he held regarding his employer._ I'll have to let the squids know that the mole died before I could catch him. Wait…I have an audience, don't I?_

She turned around to find out, and just as she predicted, there were at least a dozen people that were watching her with wide eyes, even a couple recording it on their omni-tools._ Weeelll shit, should probably ask them to get in touch with the Councilor while I'm at it. Looks like C-Sec is going to be covering up this mess as 'a tragic accident following an attempted shooting'. I hate my life right now….._

* * *

_**7:28 GST, back at the safe house.**_

"_*siiiiggghhh* It can never be easy, can it?" _He muttered, annoyance clearly shown on the face of his preferred 'avatar' even with the partial signal lag; the avatar in question being a holographic representation of his original body in one of the trascari's trademark black bodysuits, with a long ceremonial cape gently swaying in the digital 'breeze', also black, but with crisscrossing blue lines that formed a scale-like pattern that made it appear to have been crafted from the hide of a massive sea creature.

"No shit, genius. So, you gonna let Campascus know?"

"_I think you can handle that personally."_

"What? Why?!"

"_Because I was in the middle of a simulated combat mission with the three…projects when you got in touch with me, and until they get used to the improved physical and mental abilities, I'm running the sims they live in at 20× speed to allow for more time to pass from their perspective." _she opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off with a raised holographic hand _"They're doing fine; their capacity to understand and adjust to such a unique situation has surpassed expectations, and the rebuilt bodies are nearly finished. The only reason it took longer than normal is because Ocean and I had to rework the process to ensure they wouldn't be turned into true infiltrators."_

She released a held in breath; happy to hear the good news. "How's pointy taking it?"

"_Are you kidding? The kid was salivating at all the tech upgrades he'll have access to once he's let back out!"_

She shook her head, chuckling lightly. "Gramps and newbie?"

"_Not quite as thrilled as him, but I think they don't mind; considering the alternative is being dead. Plus, there's the whole 'immortality' thing that comes with never aging and being immune to diseases, so they're not all that upset really; although I had to reassure Drutus his 'equipment' would still 'function'. Why the Reapers would leave that part of a species' body intact, I have no idea. Maybe it let's them experience and imitate what an organic feels during sex?" _He said with a contemplative look, eventually shrugging; and she raised an eyebrow, wondering where this line of thought came from. Not that she didn't think of that kind of thing herself, obviously, it just wasn't what Hystuss typically brought up in a conversation.

"Learn anything from the bomber?"

"_Less than I'd have preferred. She was a freelancer that got a job offer around an hour after we caught Gadena, probably as a result of Orotus telling the Broker about the party. No name given by the employer, big surprise there, only an address and a note telling her who I was and the message to deliver along with the bomb."_

"So in other words: a dead end."

"_Basically, yeah. Speaking of Gadena, have you had a 'talk' with our other 'guest' yet?"_

"No, I was too busy yesterday and I haven't gotten around to it today."

"_Then I'll leave you to it. Once you've gotten all you think you can out of her, just send a mission complete signal to me, and I'll let Campascus know you're going to see him."_

_So I'm actually going to meet a Councilor. Huh. Even for me, that's not something that happens every other day. Well shit, now I feel underdressed. _"How should I handle him? Just go in, let him know I've got the sniper locked up down here, and then cover what happened on the 31st in detail, no facts withheld?"

"_Pretty much. Just leave out the part about how the three turians were temporarily killed and are being rebuilt; he doesn't need to be informed of everything I do, after all."_

"Hey, whatever you want, boss." She said snarkily, earning a glare before he cut the transmission. _That was easy. Hmm, I should keep that in mind if I want to distract him in the future. Alright, let's go pump the unlucky bitch for some information._

She got up and shut off the projector, no point in wasting electricity even if it was practically free thanks to advances in technology, and went to a closed door that led to the small 'interrogation room' in the safe house; really just an unused storage room with only one way in or out. Gadena was asleep, tied to the sole chair inside with omni-cuffs on each wrist and ankle, and looked like she hadn't even tried to escape in spite of being alone for over a day. _I know that's a good thing in reality, I mean I wouldn't have been able to stop her from doing it, but it's freaky how indoctrination steals a person's free will like that._

She shook her head, deciding not to focus on it, and cleared her throat. It had the intended effect, as the other asari snapped her eyes open and rapidly took in her surroundings in a panic; only for them to glaze over after a few seconds like she was under the influence of a powerful drug.

Gadena lazily turned to look at her, barely registering anything else, and formed a smile that was somewhere in-between happy and confused. Now that she had her attention, Valora began the questioning; starting with a simple one to judge her reaction. "What's your full name, and how old are you?".

"Yaeez Gadena, 459 years and 8 months by Citadel standards." She said readily, as if pleased to mention it. _Okay, so it does work. Let's go straight for the prize, then._

"Do you know who hired you to kill the turian Councilor?"

She shook her head, but not in the negative. "I wasn't hired to kill him; that's what the disposable krogan and paid off C-Sec officer were for. I was there to take out the surrounding guards to ensure they had the chance to finish their part of the hit." _Well….I suppose that explains why she didn't shoot him outright when she had the opportunity. Still didn't answer, though._

"Who was the person that hired you?" She asked in a more stern voice, trying to send the point across that she should answer it directly. The sniper took the hint, and seemed to internally struggle for a moment; her face scrunching in pain. It went away, however, and was replaced with the calm expression once more.

"I was approached with the job offer by an old friend; you may have heard of her. Her name is-"

* * *

_**9:71 GST, Presidium, reception area of the Hierarchy Compound.**_

"Yeah, I have an appointment with the Councilor."

The receptionist tilted her head up, a scrutinizing gaze examining her body, and went back to what she was doing when she was through. "Name?"

"Blue Wallflower."

The turian squinted her eyes in suspicion, but checked anyway; blinking after a few seconds passed. "Ah, you're on the special visitors list, my apologies. Pardon me if this comes off as rude, but is it true he sometimes has more than one relationship at a time?"

Valora raised an eyebrow, wondering why the woman was asking her. _Wait, did she say 'special visitors'? And when you combine that with the name I gave….oh fu-okay, anything except that particular word. I'll get you for this, trigger-happy._

"I wouldn't know, this is my first time." It took her less than a second to realize exactly what that sounded like, and she cringed. The receptionist, to her credit, just nodded sagely; unfazed by the answer.

"Don't worry: he's a kind hearted man, so you shouldn't have any issues." _Probably thought I cringed because I'm afraid of…oh goddess, I don't even want to think about it._

While Valora was rather experienced in that 'field of expertise', she still had standards, albeit low ones, and agreeing to 'get it on' with someone she hadn't even met yet was a line she refused to cross. Rather than say all this out loud, she forced a reassured expression on her face; not wanting to come off as more suspicious than she already was.

The door to the turian's left slid open and she walked through, nodding in thanks, and the woman went back to work; although Valora noticed a shotgun underneath her desk as she passed. _And that's how you know she's taking her job seriously. Now that I mention it though, I have yet to see a turian without at least a pistol somewhere nearby. I swear, the krogan are the only species I know that have a bigger hard-on for weapons in general; you'd think it was a cultural thing for them to own a gun! Then again, every single one of them spent, or is spending time in the military, so I suppose it's understandable._

She went for another minute through the winding hallway; noting the rectangular metal flower pots that could easily be used as barricades, the small wall cutouts as defensive positions, a dozen 'workers' that hid armor and assault rifles underneath their baggy clothes, easily deployable turrets hidden at every corner, and countless nearly unnoticeable doors perfectly built for ambushes. If one thing could be said about the building, it's that it could survive a war unscathed. _Guess the attack urged them to increase security a bit. Still, some of this is going a little overboard; I mean do they expect an entire army to try invading?_

She eventually reached a final door, with two ridiculously well armed turians outside of it covered from head to toe in black and orange heavy armor; almost looking like a pair of krogan. One of them held out the hand not resting on his, she assumed it was a male anyway, trigger, while the other scanned her with his omni-tool. Scanner repeated the action a second time and then nodded at trigger; followed by both of them moving back to their original positions and acting like she wasn't even there.

She went through the door, aware they continued to track her movements even without turning their heads, and waited until it closed before speaking to the room's only occupant. "If they were looking for weapons, they didn't do a very good job." She said, patting the pistol at her waist.

"Can't be too careful. I've never seen you before, and you could've been anyone underneath that face. That said, according to the multiple scans run on you as you came here through the building, you appear to be you. As I'm sure you no doubt know, I'm Herieus Campascus." He extended his arm, and she held back a snort at the turian greeting gesture; but shook it anyway to keep from being rude.

"Valora Sederis."

"Sederis? Ah yes, I know your mother, Admiral Teriala. We haven't spoken in some time, but I understand she recently found a new bondmate; is that correct?" He asked in curiosity.

She growled at the mention of her name; suddenly wishing she could turn around and forget this ever happened. "That bitch can rot in the lowest pits of hell for all I care, and she can take her fuck buddy with her!"

He was taken aback at the raw vitriol in her voice; his brow-plates shooting up. "Apologies then. I didn't mean to touch upon a sore topic."

She took in a calming breath and let it out; old wounds nearly reopening. "No, it's not your fault; you had no way to know."

"Family can be like that sometimes." He said with all the wisdom of a matriarch, and all the bluntness of a battlemaster. _Well, at least he says what's on his mind. Still, I should have better control over myself than that._

"Yeah, that's one way to put it." she shook her head, berating herself for veering off topic "You-know-who sent me to deliver some bad news, good news, and just plain ordinary news."

"It's alright, you can talk freely here; I have it swept for bugs twice a day. So, what's Premalon been up to recently? According to Citadel Control, the shuttle he was on went straight to the relay after that explosion two days ago."

She nodded and filled him in about the bomb, the bomber getting caught, and told him to expect a proper call from Hystuss in a few days; never mentioning if anyone got hurt or not. "Well…damn. Does he know who sent it?"

"He thinks it was the Broker, but aside from the message delivered with the bomb, we have no proof."

"Damn asari are always trying to cause problems…." he muttered, to which she narrowed her eyes "Oh, uh, present company excluded of course. I happen to have good relations with asari not involved in politics."

She snorted, having learned that already. "I know. I was put on the 'special visitors list'. Tell me: is it true you've had two partners at once at some point? Very impressive for a turian."

She could've sworn a bit of blue made it's way to the edges of his facial plates, but he managed to hide any other reaction from her. "I see you've been talking to my secretary."

"Secretary? I thought she was a receptionist?"

"She does work as both."

"Ah. Well anyway, he's going to start setting up outposts in the Terminus and Traverse to try and locate the Broker's hiding spot; at least until we come up with a better lead. Onto more recent issues. I'm not sure if you've been told, but I was sort-of, kind-of, involved in an accident a couple hours ago, which is something I need to get you to solve; in exchange for a favor from the squids." She finished with slight embarrassment, and he smirked at the mention of 'squids'; though his eyes remained focused.

"What sort of accident?"

"Well, it's really a result of what I've been doing for the past two days." He raised a brow-plate and gestured for her to continue. She did so; telling him about the suspicions regarding a possible traitor, her efforts to find them, and the unintentional death of said traitor earlier that day.

"Unfortunate; they might've been able to provide answers. I'll get in touch with the Executor and ask him to personally handle it. Besides, from what you told me, it was justifiable self-defense that can easily be proven by the hotel's camera recordings; so I don't think it'll be a problem." _Well that's a relief. And now for the fun part of this little visit._

"That brings me to the final reason of why I'm here." she allowed a vicious grin to form; reveling in the more-than-likely chaos that would come from her next several words "We caught the sniper and 'convinced' her to tell us who her employer is." _Pause for dramatic effect. _"Your fellow Councilor: Faalra T'Loris."

He looked disbelieving at first, only to slowly turn from disbelieving to thoughtful, soon followed by shocked, and ending with a neutral expression that was betrayed by the fire in his eyes. "I assume you have proof?" He asked with a bit of venom laced into it, and she had to keep from cackling with sadistic glee at the damage to galactic politics she'd just caused.

"Proof, names, locations, times, all of it. Turns out Gadena was a rather close friend of hers during the Rebellions, so when the old hag needed her competitors 'removed' from the playing field, she turned to the ex-Commando for help; the dumb bitch even took her to bed a few times as a reward for a 'job well done'. I have it all on here," she waved her left arm around with the omni-tool turned on "so believe me when I say this: both her life and career can be decided with the press of a button. If just half of this got out, the Council of Matriarchs back on Thessia would have her head served on a platter."

He stared at the glowing device with a mix of ruthless calculation and what could only be described as a hungry desire; the gears almost audibly turning in his head. "I think I could put such a thing to good use; might even be able to finally break the asari-salarian alliance when it comes to Council law. If you could send me a copy-" "Not so fast. I want in on this." She interrupted, making him narrow his eyes.

"What do you mean?"

"Trigger-happy," he tilted his head in confusion, and she reworded it "I mean Premalon. Premalon may get to have all the fun, but he didn't find this delightful piece of blackmail; I did. So when you 'inform' T'Loris of the changes in policy, I want to be there for it."

"Why?"

"Because call me a cruel fucker, but I want to see the so-called 'wise and powerful' Councilor T'Loris squirm when it's her neck on the line." He raised a brow-plate for the barest of moments; only for his mandibles to spread in a predatory grin similar to hers, and he sounded practically giddy when he responded.

"I like the way you think. After we've torn her a new asshole," this time she did cackle "I have a feeling my job will become infinitely more easy. Would you happen to be available tomorrow at sixteen-hundred? I can arrange a 'private meeting' for just the three of us at a nearby restaurant."

"Why Councilor Campascus, don't you know how that might look to the completely and totally honest tabloids if they found out!?" She asked with faux shock.

"Fuck 'em; I've always hated reporters anyway." He said with a shit-eating grin, and they both shared a massive bout of laughter. _By the Goddess, I think I'm in love!_

They eventually stopped to take a breath, and she managed to wheeze out "I'll be sure to record it from start to finish. It's been an absolute pleasure, Councilor."

He was still gasping for air when he replied. "Please, call me Herieus."

"Alright Herieus, then call me Valora"

"Gladly. I'll see you then." He said with mirth in his voice.

"It's a date." She told him with a wink, and he responded in kind. Valora sent off the incriminating data to the email address Hystuss had given her for this situation, and his omni-tool lit up. She turned to leave now that there wasn't anything else to say, and decided to give him a taste as she walked out; swaying her hips and chest in a way that had turned the gaze of even the most disinterested salarian, and she could feel his eyes following every motion as he watched her go.

She stopped when the door to his office closed, although she could tell the guards were 'examining' her more thoroughly now, and left the building with a smug smile plastered on. It was only after Valora reached the rapid transit terminal she used to get there that she realized what she just did. _Oh. Oh shit. Oh fuck. I just flirted with one of the most powerful people in the entire galaxy, and essentially told him I was willing to take it a step further. Veya's going to kill me._

She thought about it further as the aircar arrived to pick her up; her more 'random' side eventually winning the internal debate. _Then again, what she doesn't know can't hurt her. Besides, it's the fucking Councilor! Granted, he's not exactly a celibate, but the amount of people that can say they've slept with one has rarely, if ever, gone into the triple digits for the past thousand years. I have the opportunity to join a limited group of people that know whether all that politicking ruins their sexual performance!_

At this point, even she would freely admit to doing it just because she was desperate after a month of not engaging in that most sacred of asari 'rituals', but in the end, her mind was already made up: she was going to sleep with one of the three heads of galactic government, and not Veyavasa, not Hystuss, not even the return of the fucking Reapers themselves would keep her from this highly important goal.

* * *

**Yeaaahhh, I think we can all agree on where her priorities lie. That said: is it possible that she and the Councilor are kindred spirits, or is it merely his supernatural charm at work? The choice is yours, for now at least, because as I've mentioned in the past regarding these types of things: if I said, it would be telling, now wouldn't it?**

**I'm beginning to realize that if Valora wasn't a character, I could probably rate this story T so that it attracts more readers; but you know what? The loveable, foul-mouthed, sex-crazed, alcohol-craving, and quite-possibly-insane lunatic of an asari is absolutely worth it; and I refuse to hear any arguments to the contrary.**

**If you want a better description of what the trescari black bodysuit and/or cape combo looks like, the basic design is essentially the kryptonian ones shown in Man of Steel (still the best live action superman movie DC's made in my opinion). To be more precise: the ones worn by Zod and his soldiers.**

**Oh and before I forget, BIG NEWS! I made a collaborative chapter with fellow author ThePilotArchangel for one of his fics, GST Side-stories. It explores the lives and adventures of characters behind-the-scenes of his primary fic, A Ghost and a Spectre, and I heartily recommend them both! Definitely not because I've created one of these characters. *pretends to look innocent* Not at all. But really, they're both excellent fics, and if anything, they'll make for a fun read while you wait for me to update; so go check 'em out! Just be sure to start with Ghost, because the side-stories are exactly that: side-stories.**

**As always, it's been a blas- *someone begins yelling in the background* READ IT! READ IT, I TELL YOU! READ IT NOW! THE SOONER YOU DO, THE SOONER YOU CAN DISCOVER MY GLORIOUS CREATION! I COMMAND YOOUUU! *the person in front of the screen sighs and gets up, going out of sight* *a scuffle can be heard, and pained cries come from the next room over, followed by total silence* *the person comes back with blood on his shirt and a black eye* Sorry about that; been having problems with the more 'independent' aspects of my personality getting out of hand. You guys should consider yourselves lucky to be able to agree on anything without getting into a mental slugfest with the parts of you that want to go left, then the parts that want to go right, followed by the parts that don't want to do anything at all, and then the guy in the middle that just wants to eat his dinner and write his story in peace without getting dragged into it; and that, when he is, has to put them down with brute force. That's me by the way. Hi, nice to meet ya. Annnnyyywaaayyyyy, it's been fun writing this out, even more so because of the POV I wrote it from. I hope you enjoyed and I'll see you next time!**


	18. Chapter 18, Part 4

*****The Broken Reaper*****

**Chapter 18: Awakening: The Visit, Part 4**

* * *

**AN: Reviews, because I'm too lazy to say anything else.**

**Tom712: Hey now, I'm just writing from the perspective of the character. Not my fault she has….issues. Well, ok, as I'm her creator, it is, but the point stands: I wrote with her mentality in mind, not mine. No, really. Why're you smirking?! I'm being serious!**

**Prometheus-777: You know, one of these days I'm going to make these short enough to be added like normal review responses once more. But today is not that day. [Covered in a PM]**

**Blaze1992: *opens mouth to respond, only to sigh and shrug* I don't intend to overuse them or anything; you just ruffled my rhetorical feathers is all. You're not the only one that sometimes lacks a filter. The difference between canon and this remains to be seen, and I'm not going to promise much beside the fact I have plans; and with a thousand years to play with, quite literally anything can change. As I said in that PM, I don't intend to waste the time I've given my MC's.**

**Guest: Judging by the fact you're still reading it, it's apparently good enough. As for the pilgrimage, I can explain that as one of two things: they never explicitly stated when the quarians first started going on them, and if they did, this is an AU for a reason. Oh, and seeing as /that/ isn't exactly very descriptive, and considering that there are quite literally dozens of possibilities as to what it is thanks to the nature of the internet, I'd love for you to explain what you meant by it.**

**Lots of news at the bottom of this one, as I've been pretty busy lately (if the long wait, by my standards at least, wasn't a good enough indicator), and am going to be even more busy in the future, just with writing a pair of new fics instead; so please be sure not to skip it! There are also going to be a couple codex entries for Reaper troops that I've been working on with Blaze1992 (thanks again for the help) that cover and/or expand on what was shown in the games. Not all of them are going to be posted with this chapter, of course; but as time goes on, they'll be added accordingly.**

**Well folks, this is the last part of Visit, so let's get this show on the road!**

* * *

**10th month, 31****st**** day, 1027 CE, 18:43 GST, unregistered shuttle nearing Widow System mass relay.**

She didn't know how long she just stared at her brother; unable to pull her eyes off of him. He seemed almost peaceful, like he was sleeping; were it not for the deep, unnatural trenches on his arms, legs, and chest where flesh should be. Meldos had been in the cockpit for several minutes, doing what, Salonia didn't know or care; too busy fighting the urge to tap Setherus' blackened face so he'd wake up and tell her it was all just an elaborate prank. The fact that his asari killer was in the cockpit with Meldos, albeit tied up and unconscious, left her feeling twitchy at just the thought alone.

Treniso must've noticed her fidgeting, as the older woman put a hand on her should and squeezed reassuringly. Salonia finally pulled her gaze off of him and regarded the hand's owner: her facial scar stretched in a frightening manner, but she recognized it for what it was, and smiled, albeit weakly, back at her.

"Hey, he'll be fine. From what I know of his personality, I bet he'll be up and about in no time at all once he gets put back together; and the one thing I can say for certain about the Major is that he follows through on his promises. It's best if you try and distract yourself for now; no point in worrying about something you can't change." the scarred woman said.

She took in a deep breath and let it out; more than happy to follow the advice. "I know. It's just…." she couldn't finish the sentence.

"First time something like this has ever happened to you?"

"Yeah." she answered quietly.

"You never get used to it." Salonia tilted her head questioningly at that. "Death that is. I mean it's one thing for it to be a stranger or someone you barely know, or hell, even a piece of crap that deserved it like slavers or pirates, but friends…family….those are wounds you carry for the rest of your life." she finished in a way that told her the woman knew firsthand, so she decided to ask.

"Have you experienced it before? Losing family?"

Treniso opened her mouth to answer, but no sound came out; an expression that could only be described as sad remembrance flashing over her features for a moment as she rubbed the prominent scar running up the left side of her face that started at the neck and nearly reached her forehead. "You could say that. They weren't family, by blood at least, but I would trade my actual one in a heartbeat if it meant getting them back."

They were interrupted by the up-to-that-point silent Perdweigh: genuine curiosity shown in the alien's tone, alongside an emotion she couldn't identify. "You never really said much about your old squad. What were they like?"

Treniso glared at the third person present, only to examine her more thoroughly, and settle into a sad stare at the floor after she had; not that Salonia understood the specific feeling shown on Perdweigh's unusual, compared to what she was used to at least, face. _I really need to learn how to recognize other species' facial expressions better._

"They were a lively bunch to say the least. Served as their Corporal and eventually Sergeant for six years on various postings; from frigates, to dreadnaughts, to colonies, even the Citadel for a couple weeks. Best marines I've ever had the pleasure of knowing, although they did have a habit of causing me more trouble than they were worth at times." she chuckled, obviously lost in memories for a moment. "What about you? I've been around enough asari to know what your kind look like when they remember old acquaintances; tends to be a problem with such a long lifespan, and you aren't exactly hiding it."

_Huh. So that's what it was._

Perdweigh blinked and followed it by smiling; eyes distant and foggy with memory similar to Treniso's own. "I wasn't a leader like you per-se, but I'll admit to my position being similar. During the war, I was on the front lines for decades, every day worried that I'd lose one of them; and despite the constant death surrounding us non-stop, we survived without a single casualty for a long time. So very long." her smile disappeared, and was replaced by a look of what seemed like real, physical pain mixed with loss. "It was only a matter of time until it caught up with us…." she trailed off, leaving them to fill in the blanks.

"Damn krogan." muttered Treniso.

"Yeah. Krogan." the asari said, before inhaling deeply through her nose and closing her eyes; so still she could've been mistaken for entering some form of meditation.

They remained in silent companionship for several minutes as each of them remembered, in different ways, those lost to them, or in Salonia's case, temporarily lost. Eventually, the silence was broken by Meldos coming back into the cabin and glancing over them; raising a brow-plate at how they all stared at him. "I won't ask; just figured I should mention that we're about to hit the relay."

"Where are we going?" she asked, wondering why they weren't boarding a larger vessel first. Shuttles weren't meant to go very far on their own after all. Even if one was filled with nothing but fuel, it couldn't go more than a day or two in standard FTL before running out; whereas even a simple corvette could effectively double the amount you could travel, and frigates and larger ships could go for upwards of a full week or longer without refueling, albeit at the cost of speed.

"To an unnamed system in the Traverse. I have my ship waiting there for us, and it has what Setherus, Lavaeus, and Drutus need to get back on their feet."

"How long?" Perdweigh asked, nodding her head as if she expected the answer.

"Seventeen hours. It's on the border with the Terminus, so I'd recommend you all get comfortable for a while."

"Seventeen hours?! Umm…" she looked around nervously; suddenly noticing a basic urge most living beings needed to carry out. "This shuttle has a bathroom on it, right?"

He smirked in response and pointed to a door barely large enough for her to fit through at the rear of the craft. Not wasting another second, she speed walked to it; not quite running, but definitely faster than she would've normally gone.

She opened it to see a small toilet built for efficiency over comfort, a miniature sink barley large enough to fit her hands underneath the faucet, and a dispenser filled with universal soap able to be used by any race no matter their biology; and had to hold in a groan when the realization of it all being 'military standard' hit her. _Not even a towel? Seriously? *sigh* I hope those seats out there are comfortable enough to sleep in at least. Is it weird I envy the asari's ability to mix both streamlined design and civilian sector comfort? Maybe the transport I took to the Citadel spoiled me a little, but spirits were those cushions soft. It felt like I was leaning back on my old bed rather than traveling on a passenger liner._

Bemoaning the stereotypical flaw in her species' mentality towards interstellar travel on anything smaller than a cruiser, that is to say it should be 'quick, painful, and make you want to get there faster' to use her DI's words, she sat down and did that most fundamental part of being alive.

* * *

_**10**__**th**__** month, 32**__**nd**__** day, 1027 CE, 15:20 GST, unnamed system ILM-1977, Sentry Omega cluster.**_

The seats were indeed, much to her surprise, comfortable enough to sleep in. After an hour or so of off-and-on conversation she started to get tired, and leaned back in the shuttle seat designed with turians in mind. She lasted a whole two minutes before drifting off; pleasant dreams of her childhood which seemed so distant now, even though some of them were only three months old.

After waking up, she learned they still had over seven hours to go, so to pass the time she played a game on her omni-tool. A couple hours later, Perdweigh invited her to join a game of cards called 'The Five Families' the other three were playing. She'd heard of it before, several of her fellow trainees used to hold regular matches in the barracks after all, but she had never actually played herself. When she informed the asari of this, the alien woman looked at the other two and they all nodded; telling her they'd 'take it easy on the new girl'.

Before too long, she'd somehow gotten several thousand credits richer.

"No way, just no way! How the hell are you this good when you've never played before now?!" the sole asari among them nearly yelled out.

"Beginners luck?" she answered with a shrug; although even she was surprised at the holographic pile of winnings next to her. The cards, chairs, and small folding table were real, while anything having to do with money was digital. The shuttle may have been small compared to a proper vessel, but it was meant for upwards of a dozen fully loaded and geared up soldiers, so they had more than enough room to set it all up.

"Luck is the word. Who shuffled that last deck, anyway?" Meldos asked, but from the way he glanced at Treniso, he already knew the answer.

"Hey, I shuffled just like I always do; it's not my fault she got a really good hand! Besides: weren't you the dealer of the round before this one?" said woman responded.

"Yes, but at least I didn't give her a full set! That hand's fucking unbeatable!" it was news to her that winning in the way she did was so impressive, if she was being honest. Apparently, the ways you could win the game varied a little bit, but each way was different in that if someone else also 'won', there was a chance you could lose yourself depending on the method of winning they used. Getting five of a kind was the lowest ranked way of winning, and subsequently the riskiest option, followed by what was called a 'mix-up', that is to say getting 1-10 with any mixture of cards from different sets, and the hardest to achieve way that was almost guaranteed to be a win: getting a 'royal family', which required the three different special cards, and they had to be from the same set.

She managed to get a mix-up when the cards were dealt, and decided to insure a win because she had a Maiden and Matriarch from the same set, thanks to drawing the Maiden from the card pile during her first turn.

A few turns later and Perdweigh, who was sitting to her right, placed the Matron she needed on the discard pile; and it was her turn next. To say they were shocked at her winning in two different ways was an understatement to say the least, which led to her being informed of the final, less known, way of winning: a full set. It could only be achieved by doing precisely what she did, although she could've also done it if she had five of a kind combined with one of the other two ways to win.

"Come on guys, I was just really lucky is all; no need to make a fuss over it. Besides, it's just a game, no big deal." she said, trying to calm them down; worried at how hard they took it.

"Just a game….just a damn game she says…." Meldos said with a dangerously twitching eye that showed a startling amount of anger at the statement, and she recognized the error in her wording too late to correct it. _Oh crap, I forgot how serious some people take this kind of thing. Guess I better prepare for the oncoming verbal assault._

To her surprise he didn't go into the expected tirade; instead looking off into the distance, and followed by him schooling his features to be neutral for some reason. As if on cue, his omni-tool lit up, and he quickly went over whatever it was that it showed. "Looks like we're here. I'll be in the cockpit if you need me."

And just like that, he got up and left; his holographic credit chits disappearing. Perdweigh soon did the same thing, but rather than head to the cockpit, she went to inspect the three bodies near the front of the shuttle.

Treniso gave one last look at the table and shrugged; going over to one of the shuttle's seats and relaxing in it. Being the last person at the table, Salonia sighed and stood up herself, and followed Meldos into the cockpit. When she walked in, he seemed mildly surprised, but nodded to her. "You can take the copilot's chair if you want. I'll be flying us in."

She sent a glare to the still unconscious and tightly restrained asari laying on the floor next to the wall, but ignored her in favor of following his advice, and sat down. "So, where's your ship? I can't see it anywhere."

"We're in space; of course you can't see it yet." he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world, and she had to stop herself from pouting childishly.

"I know that! I was just wondering where it is so I know what to look for."

He raised a brow-plate and smirked, and she grumbled several unkind things under her breath. "See that garden world?"

"Well yeah, there's nothing else in front of us at the moment." she replied; not understanding where he was going with it.

"See that peninsula? The long and thin one on the left side of the continent?"

She scanned over the planet to try and locate it, and it didn't take her long to do so. "I see it."

"Keep watching it."

She looked at him curiously, and his only response was a knowing smile; not saying anything else. _Well, suppose it can't hurt to wait and find out what he meant. Huh. Looks like this world hasn't been colonized yet. I wonder why? It looks like a perfectly acceptable candidate for settlers. Maybe it's because of the location?_

Deciding to ask about it later, she kept her gaze focused on the slice of land on the mostly ocean covered world. After half a minute passed she started to get bored, but a distant flicker caught her attention. She squinted to get a better look at it, and noticed a steadily growing object fast approaching them: faster than what her limited knowledge of current naval technology said was possible. _An experimental frigate built for speed perhaps? It wouldn't be too outlandish for someone with the apparent connections of the Major._

As it got closer, she learned how miraculously wrong her guess was; and she gaped at the gigantic monstrosity of a warship, her mandibles spread almost comically wide.

"Glad you like it." Meldos said mirthfully.

"That-you-but-HOW DO YOU HAVE ONE OF THE LARGEST DREADNAUGHTS IN THE GALAXY?!" she yelled out in open shock.

"Not one of, THE largest dreadnaught in the galaxy. Well, second largest anyway; but the one in first place belongs to a rather annoying competitor of mine. At least if he hasn't been killed by now, that is; which is entirely possible considering how long it's been since I last saw him." he replied casually, as if a single man personally owning the 'second largest' dreadnaught in existence was no big deal. _Wait, so if this is the second, then how big is the first?_

A dozen different outlandish images from various science fiction vids of a ship larger than the Citadel flashed through her mind, but the rational part of her saying how impossible that was won out in the end. It seemed like she was just in time too, as the Major opened a comms channel. "Honey, I'm hooommmee! Is the hanger ready for us?"

She stared at him in bewilderment; thrown off by his first sentence. Rather than ask about it, she heard a deep, emotionless voice respond, and it had an odd sort of echo in the background. _"It is, Premalon. Do you wish to have an escort sent to accompany you?"_

"No, that won't be necessary. I will need some help transporting three bodies though."

"_Would you prefer a biotic or heavy-lifter team to assist?"_

He seemed to think it over, and answered a few seconds later. "Let's make it biotic; don't want to mangle them more than they already are."

"_Affirmative, Premalon. Preparing them now."_

Meldos nodded in satisfaction and ended the transmission, turning to face her; and she was left in a perpetual state of confusion throughout the whole conversation, if it could even be called that. He noticed her current state, and answered the latest in a whole line of questions she had forming thanks to all of what she'd just witnessed. "A highly advanced VI installed on the Retribution, that's the ship's name by the way. Because of it's size, most everything had to be automated to decrease crew costs, and a VI was the most efficient way of handling such a task. And Premalon is an alias of mine."

She finally found her voice and managed to ask a question that particular bit of info brought up. "How many crew are needed to operate it?"

"Optimally? A hundred or so." her mandibles once more hit the floor upon learning it required less people onboard to operate than a cruiser. "If needed though, thanks to a self-sustaining population of repair drones, the captain can run the entire ship from the bridge as long as the VI is up-and-running."

She felt the air leave her lungs as if she'd been punched in the gizzard, and suddenly became rather pale. _One person. It takes only one person to control that monster….Spirits! If there were a couple hundred of those things, the combined naval might of the entire Citadel wouldn't even stand a chance! It'd be child's play for a faction that holds such power to just wipe out any fleet they go up against._

"How many of those ships exist?" she asked, trying her best to hide the building terror that was gnawing at her in case his answer confirmed her fears.

"To tell you the truth: I don't know. Don't worry though; they can't be built like a normal dreadnaught. I'm still working on finding out the process behind it myself, but from what's been seen of how the drones repair any damage, we have a fairly good idea."

"We? And what do you mean by the process being unknown? I thought you just said the VI was installed to decrease crew costs. Isn't it a turian ship?"

"Nope: what you see before you is a fully functioning prothean capital ship. There are others like it out there, that rival of mine I mentioned for one, but this was a recent find. There were quite a few news channels discussing it a month-and-a-half ago when an image taken by an STG spy ship was leaked. Fortunately, the Hierarchy had long since relocated the vessel by the time investigators were sent to check it out. Needless to say, you can't repeat any of this to anyone else; it would cause unnecessary problems for all involved." he warned in a threatening tone that brooked no argument, and she gulped; nodding her head in the affirmative. "As for who 'we' are, I think your brother can better explain that to you in person."

Now that he brought it up, her mind focused on why they were there in the first place. "How long will it take for him to be…'healed'?"

"All estimates point to two days or less for the physical aspect of things. As for the mental side? Well, I think he'll be alright. Dying may not be pleasant, but it's easy enough to overcome once you get used to it." he said offhandedly, as if he knew firsthand, and she stared at him incredulously; which he apparently didn't notice. "Although, due to how you're going to be told everything you need to know, you can find that out yourself."

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"You'll learn soon enough." he said cryptically, and she forced herself to hold back an annoyed response.

It took another minute for the shuttle to be maneuvered into a hanger on the 'belly' of the ship, and it surprised her at how small it was when compared to such a large vessel. Noticing she was about to ask anyway, he answered the question. "The main hangers are filled with building materials, scrap, and other shuttles, so they'd be a tad crowded with us thrown in. This hanger was used to deploy a squadron of fighters according to recovered files from it's databanks, but they weren't there when it was dug up, and have yet to be replaced. For now, it's mostly used to deploy salvage or external repair teams."

"Ah." she nodded as understanding dawned on her.

"Could you tell the others to be ready to go? Oh, and I'm going to be busy overseeing the process relating to your brother's…" he seemed to search for the right word "rebirth, so Cerhn is going to be the one explaining everything to you."

"Alright, I'll be sure to let them know. And Major Meldos, Sir?"

He narrowed his eyes when she said 'Sir', but otherwise didn't visually react. "Yes?"

"Thank you. He may be a complete nerd and thick-headed at times, but he's family." she said with more than a little gratitude, and he merely waved it off.

"It's not a problem. He's a subordinate and a friend, so this is the least I can do."

_Resurrection is the 'least' he can do? *sigh* Just what did you get yourself into, Seth?_

Rather than say anything else, she gave a final appreciative nod and went to inform the other two passengers.

* * *

_**? ?, ? ?, ? ?, unknown.**_

The last thing he remembered was a flash of light from the package, and then total darkness. At first, he tried to fight against it, to push it back; but in the end, it overwhelmed him, surrounding him entirely.

He didn't know what it was, that all consuming blackness, but he soon remembered several old religious fables multiple cultures had that provided an answer.

_I'm dead._

The thought struck him like a charging krogan berserker, and his non-existent legs gave out from under him as he sank into a pitiful state of depression. Questions like 'What happened?', 'Did everyone else make it?', 'Is Sal alright?', and a dozen others passed through his mind, only to be forgotten as fast as they came.

He had no way of tracking time in this new dreary existence, so for all he knew he spent years just sitting there despondently; that is, until a pinprick of light started to shine in the distance. It seemed to be headed towards him because it slowly grew in size, and he stared unblinking at it in curiosity; wondering what the strange, dimly glowing orb was.

_Huh. A blue so dark it's reminiscent of the ocean's lowest depths. Almost reminds me of Premalon, oddly enough. Wonder what the squid's doing right now?_

As soon as he finished the thought, the orb expanded at a massively increased rate; and it swallowed him entirely before he realized what was happening.

* * *

_**10**__**th**__** month, 32**__**nd**__** day, 1027 CE, 17:04 GST, Home.**_

He slowly felt himself waking up in bed, and groggily swung his legs over the side. He opened an eye to check the time, and groaned when he saw it was past eight in the morning locally. _I'll miss breakfast if I stay in here too much longer-wait, this can't be right._

Setherus looked around and saw that his room, HIS room, was just as he'd last seen it five years ago.

"What the hell? I haven't slept here ever since I left for basic. What's going o-" his breath caught in his throat as he remembered in unnaturally vivid detail the past several days of his life; culminating in what should've been his death. He started to shake uncontrollably, but felt a sudden 'pressure', for lack of a better word, around him, followed by the memories being replaced by the countless adventures, or misadventures in some cases, that he'd gone on ever since first stepping foot on Jartar; and he chuckled at a few of the antics he'd been involved in.

He took a deep breath and let it out, savoring the familiar and nostalgic scent of sweat and his mother's air freshener; ever locked in their unending battle for supremacy in his bedroom/makeshift gym.

He continued to examine his childhood room, and smiled when his gaze settled on a pile of old and discarded computer parts on a workbench he enjoyed tinkering with back in the day. "Well, suppose it can't hurt."

He got up off the bed and walked over to them, pulling his beat-up desk chair up to the bench after he did, and was about to get to work/relax when someone knocked on his door. He stared at the door curiously, not expecting it, but figured he'd just go along with it. "Come in!"

The familiar white skin on the hand that opened it was a dead giveaway even before he saw the alien's face. "Sorry if I'm interrupting." the other person said.

"Premalon! What are you doing here?"

"Technically speaking, I'm not ACTUALLY here, but I suppose the simplest way to explain it is this: what do you last remember?"

"Oh come on, that's too easy: we were having the party for Sal, a package was delivered, and-" he cut himself off as the final piece clicked into place. "Spirits…none of this is real, is it?"

"Well, from a certain point of view, you could say it is. Here, where we are right now, everything is as real as it was when you first saw it in person. Look out your window if you want proof."

He followed Premalon's advice and went to the fairly large window in his room; the shades currently drawn. He opened them, and let out a small gasp at the unforgettable scenery he had come to miss. His family was one of the few on Palaven lucky enough to have inherited a decent sized country property outside a nearby city. It wasn't that big in reality, only a couple square kilometers, but a thick forest covered half of it, with the other half being made up of tall grassland. He had many fond memories of playing various games with Salonia in those fields, ranging from 'big game hunter', where they'd pretend to track dangerous beasts from across the galaxy, to 'hide and ambush', where one person would hide for as long as they could and the other would try and find them. Of course, by 'find', he meant just as the name implied: often tackling his younger sister from behind, much to her annoyance at the time.

It was only now that he realized he'd just spent several minutes reliving these memories as if he was actually in them once more, and he shook his head to try and focus. "Sorry about that, got lost in my thoughts."

"No worries; you'll get used to it." Premalon told him.

"Wait, what's that supposed to mean?"

"You died." the ancient alien said simply; like it explained everything he needed to know.

"Well that's just ridiculous. I mean if I died, then the only way I could be talking to you right now is if…if…." he trailed off, yet another realization made. "Oh. Right. That makes sense, in a way."

"Come on, it's not that bad! Now granted, it takes a bit of adjusting at first; but after a couple days, you won't even notice it!" the man said cheerfully, and he responded with a displeased glare.

"Precisely what are you doing to me right now? The physical me, not this…projection." he 'asked' with a low growl.

Premalon raised an amused eyebrow and smirked, before waving a hand in a casual motion; the effect quickly shown as the window scenery was replaced with what appeared to be an operating table of some sort. The recording, as that is what it apparently was, then showed a door opening and multiple people stepping inside. Said people turned out to not be people at all when he noticed the grey-purple armor that covered them from head-to-toe.

They each held out an arm wreathed in biotic blue, and he found out why when three heavily burnt turian corpses floated in and were positioned on tables next to the one the camera was centered on. He got closer to the 'screen' to get a better look, and felt the, what he now knew to be imaginary, blood drain from his face due to the corpse shown on the one in the middle. Even with the cooked flesh and dried blue blood on it, he'd recognize his own reflection anywhere.

"Understand now?" Premalon asked him in a gentle tone, and patiently waited for an answer.

"I…I….*sigh* I do." he finally managed after a few seconds. "So, what now?"

"Now I get to tell Drutus and Lavaeus essentially what I just told you, except I ALSO have to explain to them what I really am; probably via transferring some memories like what I did with you and Valora. Feel like helping me out with that? I think if they hear it from more than one mouth, it'll be easier to accept."

He sent another glance at where he'd lived the majority of his life up to this point, and felt more than a little hesitant. "Will I be able to come back here again? I'd like to explore the place some more, you know?"

The Reaper, for Setherus knew that even though he started as a trescari, he had grown to accept his new life, chuckled good-naturedly, and lightly patted him on the back. "You'll be able to come back here whenever you want when we're not busy. Who knows; maybe when you're back in the land of the living, you can use the time you'd normally spend sleeping to get acquainted with your new digital side. That reminds me: I'll be running you three through some tests in here while you all get fixed up. However, that can wait until after the other two are informed of their current situation."

Setherus narrowed his eyes but didn't say anything, instead grunting in the affirmative similar to a krogan.

"So, you ready?" Premalon inquired.

"As I'll ever be."

"Good."

He then proceeded to snap his fingers like how Setherus had seen asari do, and the entire world disappeared in a bright flash; replaced with a distinct feeling of vertigo as he 'fell' through the floor that was no longer there, only to reappear in what looked like a hotel room standing in front of a sleeping turian practically buried underneath an assortment of females from multiple species. _Ah. Then there's only one possible person this place can belong to._

Premalon sighed at the sight in front of him and took in a deep breath, before yelling at the top of his lungs with his 'Meldos' voice. "AND JUST WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING, LIEUTENANT EDORAKA?!"

The man on the receiving end yelled out himself in surprise and tried to sit upright, only to throw two of the women off of him, and planted both hands on a 'part' of the surrounding beauties; one on an asari's breast, the other on a turian's rear, which made what Setherus assumed to be the creations of the man's imagination yelp in surprise themselves. As he couldn't hold it back any longer, he let out a massive bellow of laughter at the dazed expression of his fellow turian, enjoying the scene in it's entirety.

_Yup, that's Drutus alright; or, if I'm feeling like annoying him when Handless isn't around, that's without a doubt something Newbie would think up. You know, I'm starting to see the advantages of that newfound perfect memory of mine: I can blackmail him with something that didn't even actually happen!_

His laughter turned into a more controlled cackle, and if not for Premalon loudly clearing his throat, the man's current subharmonics adding to the effect, he was certain he'd run out of breath before too long. Seeing as he wasn't the only one to notice the exaggerated sound, Drutus tried his best to snap to attention when surrounded by a veritable sea of shifting and attractive bodies.

"MAJOR, SIR! I'M IMPROVING INTERSPECIES RELATIONS….sir…." Edoraka focused on Premalon after taking a second look, and blinked, followed by squinting at the, to him at least, unidentified person in the room. "Uhh, Meldos, I think I must be imagining things, because last I checked, you weren't a snow-white quarian."

"Oh Drutus, if only it was that simple." 'Meldos' said, causing the other person to tilt his head in confusion. "We have a lot to go over, but first thing's first."

He snapped his fingers again, stunning Drutus with the unexpected sound, and each of the thoroughly naked women got up and headed towards the door to Setherus' left in near perfect sync. Unable to avoid it, he unintentionally ogled several of them, and when his eyes traveled up the form of a 'turian' female nearest to him as 'she' walked by, the woman winked at him. Suffice to say, he both blushed and came close to drooling, and were it not for a muffled snicker from Premalon, he was sure there was a very good chance that he would have.

"Damn, perverted, space squid. I knew you were spending too much time around Handless." he muttered, to which the 'squid' in question faked a gasp and looked at him with an expression that could only be read as 'Who, me?'.

Drutus, being who he was, looked like he was about to ask the 'women' why they left, but didn't, as his own expression turned into one of puzzlement. "Wait a second, how did I even get here? Weren't we just at the…party…." his features then morphed into obvious shock, and his head darted around in a panic. "No, this isn't right. It can't be right! WHAT HAPPENED!?"

Premalon stood completely still, but Setherus noted that same distinct 'pressure' that he experienced from before as it made itself known. _So that was his work then, huh? Guess that explains it. Suppose it would have been too good to be true if he could bring us back with no strings attached. Ah well, nothing I can do about it I suppose._

While he knew what to expect to a degree, when Drutus snorted out of nowhere, he was still a bit surprised. "Ahhh, those were fun times. Sorry about that, boss."

"How many times have I-you know what, never mind." Premalon said in exasperation. "Now that we don't have any distractions…" he paused, and when he spoke again, it was with his 'normal' voice "let's get started."

A loud and very confused 'Huh?' was the last thing Setherus paid attention to before the conversation went into territory he'd known for weeks now; and he simply waited for whenever he was asked to confirm what Premalon was explaining. Thankfully, it eventually ended with Drutus saying the words he'd been waiting for. "Alright then. Show me these supposed 'memories' of yours 'Premalon'. I'll decide for myself if I believe them."

"Suit yourself." the Reaper replied, and once more snapped his fingers. _Oh crap, not this again!_

As predicted, the world disappeared, and he started to 'fall' through the floor for a second time. When he at last stood on 'solid' ground again, Setherus glared at the only person to have come with him from the previous 'scene'. "You could at least warn me, you know!" he growled out.

"Where's the fun in that?" Premalon replied innocently.

Grumbling curses normally used by a certain asari mercenary, they both turned to face the final person of the 'dead three'. The old, well, older than him at least, man was sleeping on his back on a standard navy bunk; and from what Setherus could tell, they were onboard a ship of some kind. That is, he appeared to be sleeping, right up until he withdrew a heavy pistol from a holster around his waist; not even bothering to open his eyes as he pointed it straight at them. "You better have a good reason for sneaking up on me like that. It's typically considered rude to interrupt a man's well-earned nap."

"Nice to see you too, Lavaeus." 'Meldos' said, causing the other man to lower the gun.

"Primus?" he cracked an eye open and tried to find him in the dimly lit room. "What are you doing here? Wait, where is here? Weren't we just at the-" a sharp intake of breath is the only reaction he gave to the no doubt returning memories. "Oh. How long have I been out?"

Premalon looked surprised, albeit pleasantly, at his reaction, and answered him. "Just under a day."

"Really? Just a day? Must have been a rather pathetic bomb then; I feel perfectly fine, no aches or pain even."

"Yeah, about that…" he trailed off, before using his real voice once more "you may want to stay laying down for this."

The elder turian snapped his head to Premalon, attention fully on him now, and subtly moved the pistol in his direction. "And just who are you supposed to be?"

"You already know." he answered with his 'Meldos side', making Duvirian freeze up.

"How?" he asked in disbelief.

Another ten minute explanation later, and silence fell over the three of them as Duvirian contemplated what he was just told. "I believe you."

"Really?" Premalon asked in mild surprise.

"Yes. If you were lying to me, then at the very least, you'd have thought up something more believable than that; and I've been around long enough to know that even if something sounds crazy, that doesn't mean it's impossible."

"Well then….thank you. So, do you want to experience what I've told you firsthand, or are you satisfied with taking my word for it?"

Duvirian thought it over for a second before nodding. "Very well. If you've already given it to young Setherus here," said 'young Setherus' frowned but didn't say anything "and you're giving it to Drutus as we speak, I'd be a fool to refuse having your knowledge."

"Good; I'm glad you accept. Oh, and about that: his little sister, Salonia that is, and Calvatia are getting the memories as well."

"What? Why?" Setherus asked, concerned he hadn't been told about this before now.

"When you three…died," the pair of turians in the room winced a little at the word "myself and 'Cerhn'…lost ourselves, for lack of a better term. Those two just happened to see us with the proverbial curtains pulled back, and found out we aren't exactly what we show ourselves to be. As such, they're getting the same treatment that you got," he gestured to Setherus "and will get." he finished while pointing to Duvirian.

"Oh." was all the younger of the two could say.

"Now then, if you don't have any more questions; are you ready for this, Lavaeus?"

"Whenever you are, Primus."

The Reaper raised an eyebrow but didn't correct him; looking at Setherus with a shit-eating grin. "I'll drop you off back at your 'home' until they're through with the memories, and I told Salonia that you'd be explaining quite a bit of it personally, so she'll be visiting you soon enough. Oh, and seeing as you did ask for a warning, I suggest you hold on."

"Now wait just a-" he was cut off when Premalon snapped his fingers, and released a torrent of curses while he fell through the nothingness where the floor used to be. If he didn't know any better, he could've sworn he heard a soft, echoing laugh in the background; and only when he landed on a patch of tall grass in front of his family's home did he finally stop yelling obscenities.

_Sometimes, I really do hate that squid. *sigh* Well, at least I can walk around the old place for a bit. I'll admit: it's nice to see it all again, even if I'm not actually 'seeing' it for real._

He took in a deep breath to savor the familiar Palavanian air, and walked off in a random direction to enjoy the sights and sounds of home while he waited for his sister to arrive.

* * *

_**10th month, 33**__**rd**__** day, 1027 CE, 7:31 GST, in orbit above unnamed garden world.**_

"_Hey, whatever you want, boss."_ she said with a thick layer of sarcasm.

He glared at the alien woman for a second before cutting the transmission; not willing to give her the satisfaction of a response. _I swear, I take my eyes off her for just a day, and she's already managed to give me multiple headaches. And I'm not even physically capable of getting them anymore! *sigh* Aren't asari supposed to have a reputation as being cautious and wise? With Valora, it's more along the lines of headstrong and morally dubious. What am I going to do with her?_

He sighed one more time, not that it really mattered considering he was in the network aboard Retribution at the moment, and went back to the training mission he was currently running. When his body 'reformed' in the middle of the five man fireteam currently behind varying pieces of cover, plus Ocean just sitting on top of a large chunk of destroyed concrete, she was the only one not to jump at the sudden appearance.

"Spirits! You know I hate it when you do that!" Drutus nearly yelled.

"Eyes on the battlefield, Newbie!" Ocean ordered; having taken to her role of second-in-command during their 'exercises' fairly well.

"Who even decided on that being my official callsign; I mean come on! Can't it be changed to something better, like 'Krogan Slayer' or 'Spectre Candidate'?"

"Nope; so get used to it. Graduate, watch your left; I shouldn't have to point them out to you by now!" she told Salonia; her having been unanimously given the nickname by the other six people present. The girl herself didn't agree to it, but since when did that matter for their peculiar group?

The topic came up over a week ago when they first started their 'enhanced training'; and each of them had since then either been given a more appropriate (as in non-Valora influenced) callsign, or had been stuck with/decided to keep the old one. Well, it was a week by the simulators timescale anyway. When every hour of real-time passed was an entire day from your perspective, time limitations tended not to be an issue.

It surprised him when Salonia wanted to join them on their missions, but he understood the intent to stick with her brother as much as possible considering how close she came to losing him for good; and after the 'big reveal', there wasn't much else for her to do onboard Retribution while the finishing touches were made to the soon-to-be undead turians.

Speaking of 'Graduate', she popped out from the cover provided by a concrete barricade and sent a burst downrange: suppressing an attempt by their 'opponents' to rush them. "What're those four-eyed freaks called again?" she asked after ducking back down, a hail of slugs sent where her head used to be.

"Cannibals: batarians able to eat nearby downed husks and turn them into a layer of armor." Hystuss answered her.

"Right, Cannibals. I FUCKING HATE CANNIBALS!" she finished with a tossed grenade, earning several screeches of pain when it went off.

"Kid, we've got Saboteurs pushing our flank; take Ice and deal with them!" ordered Lavaeus, his callsign being 'Gramps', to no ones surprise, as the turian was the designated fireteam leader; he and Ocean were just playing the role of observers and overwatch during this particular 'mental exercise'.

Setherus repositioned to their rear, followed by Calvatia; her being the team's designated marksman meaning she could easily take them out at a distance before they became a problem, and him being best equipped to deal with the salarian husks thanks to his proficiency in tech warfare. Of course, his skill with a shotgun helped too, never mind the predicted physical enhancements he was allowed thanks to the boost in strength from his soon-to-be new body; estimated to be almost as durable as Hystuss' own, just with an increase in vulnerability to the vital areas. Granted, the three of them could now shrug off chest wounds that would either gut or incapacitate any normal person, and it'd take more than a single headshot to kill them due to their skulls getting an especially thick layer of nanite reinforced bone during the 'upgrade process'; but they could still be brought down, as proven by the previous sessions he'd run them through.

Funnily enough, he only now just realized that he'd created and was training three effectively un-killable, for any normal opponent that is, immune to aging, super soldiers. If how they tore into the simulated Reaper forces around them was any indication, he'd done a very good job indeed so far; and a vicious smile formed underneath the helmet he wore at the thought of them being actual Reaper troops rather than digital programs controlled by Orchestra.

Their current objective was deceptively simple: hold this chokepoint against steadily increasing waves until reinforcements arrived. His conversation with Valora had been relatively short, as it was less than five minutes long, but due to the increased speed inside the sim, the group had been fighting for close to an hour now; and the two 'mortal' teammates among them were starting to show how tiring it was for those that actually got tired. The simulation was designed to be as realistic as was possible which, because it was created from the ground up by a hyper-advanced AI comprised of billions of people that had actually been alive at one point in time, meant the pair of women even had to stop and 'eat' while inside of it every now and then; everything down to the wind making long-range shots more difficult, and dirt clogging up their gear's mechanisms if they weren't careful, taken into account and put into effect.

_Hey, if I have access to a supercomputer that puts an entire modern-day planet's worth of processing power to shame, who am I to refuse such an advantage?_

His point was further proven when 'Kid', as in Setherus, threw one of the Saboteurs into a nearby wall with enough force to leave a dent, both in the wall and the husk's thin chest armor where the turian had grabbed it; and the former salarian's Reaper improved omni-blades that were twice as long as their standard counterparts and lasted for several minutes rather than just one or two swings before needing to be remade, flickered and died as it crumpled to the ground in a heap of twisted metal and flesh.

As expected, 'Newbie' pulled out a pistol and fired three shots into it: one to the head, the other two into it's chest. The kill confirmed, he went back to sending out accurate bursts from his Phaeston Mk. 10, the highest quality version of the weapon available, at any husk that showed itself downrange, which just so happened to be a Marauder leading a group of Cannibals; causing the grotesque things to shoot at him in animalistic fury when their 'officer' was killed.

Drutus stopped firing immediately following a bone-chilling screech that was let out from where he was pointed, and cursed in time with a barely dodged and impressively large warp flying past where he previously stood. "Shit! I'VE GOT A DEMON AND A SQUAD OF DEFILED BEARING DOWN ON ME; NEED SOME HELP OVER HERE!"

As if on cue, a series of cries similar to the first, but more in the range of sound that a normal person could make, rang out, followed by several near-misses from a pair of enemy snipers trying to get a bead on the turian.

"Dammit! KID, ICE, ARE THE FLANKERS DEAD YET?!" Lavaeus yelled in agitation.

Their response was a shotgun blast from Setherus that turned everything above the upper chest on a Saboteur into a green and grey mist, and another's head getting cut off via a combat knife shoved through the side of it's neck and then pushed out by what, if Hystuss had to guess, was a very angry Calvatia.

"What'd it do to you?" he asked, a little curious.

"THE DAMN UNDEAD FROG AMBUSHED ME AND NEARLY CUT MY ARM OFF, THAT'S WHAT!" she held up her right arm, and just as she said, the ceramic plate had a diagonal gash on it that leaked blue in some areas. The one downside to everything being so realistic is that, well, it was realistic. Although the pain was dialed down a little to keep every gunshot wound from being debilitating, it was by no means non-existent; and getting cut by a searing hot blade still hurt like sticking your hand in boiling water, at least according to what they'd told him. Another advantage a proper infiltrator held was that it's pain receptors were removed entirely, and instead replaced by a nanite network over the skin that allowed the 'pilot', for lack of a better word, to register wounds on their body without actually 'feeling' the wound in question; something the 'revived' turians envied him for. Unfortunately, even if he wanted to, making them full infiltrators would remove their free will like any other husk, so they didn't complain about the advantages he held that often.

"Can you still use it?" asked Lavaeus.

She clenched her hand into a fist and unclenched it, nodding after she did. "I'll make it."

"Then help Newbie take out that squad; focus on the snipers first! Kid, you go after the Demon once it's long-range support is taken down!"

Two "Sirs!" was the pair's answer to his order.

"How much time left until those reinforcements get here, Major?" the fireteam leader asked him, and he held back on reminding the turian that he wasn't really Meldos due to the fact that the last time he tried, the reply he got made him seriously consider Lavaeus' words. Them being: 'I never knew the original, but if what you've told me is accurate, I'm glad you're the one I met rather than him. And as far as I'm concerned, you ARE Major Primus Meldos: the honorable and trustworthy commander of Antrafell, savior of our Councilor, and a recently made friend of this old, retired, Blackwatch captain.'

He pulled himself out of his thoughts to provide the man an answer. "3 minutes, 59 seconds."

Lavaeus nodded and turned back to coordinating the defense, and Hystuss once more reminded himself of how lucky he was to get a thirty year veteran of a spec-ops force to join up with Antrafell so early in it's existence. _And now, thanks to not technically being alive, he'll get leadership and combat experience normally reserved for trescari War Dancers, asari Matriarchs, and krogan Battlemasters. Then again, the others will too now that I mention it. I wonder if Calvatia would be willing to make the switch?_

He glanced over at the woman in question in time to watch her put a round through the head of the second Defiled sniper over a hundred meters away, and decided to ask when she didn't look like a vengeful ghost taking out her frustrations on the targets at the other end of her barrel.

_If looks could kill, then this exercise would've been over the moment she got her arm slashed open. Damn. Women can be scary sometimes. Speaking of: Ocean, don't you think it's about time they had that little 'surprise' you were planning?_

_Hmm? Oh, THAT surprise. Heheheh, I thought you'd never ask. _He couldn't see it due to the helmet, but he just knew she was grinning evilly.

_Just try not to go overboard. We want them to understand that there's bigger fish than them out there, not make them think that you're impossible to beat._

_Oh fiiiinnneee. Goddess, you sure know how to ruin a girl's fun._

_Goddess? Really?_

_Hey, last I checked, it'd be a tad bit suspicious if we're the only ones in the entire galaxy to say 'God above!' or 'Darkness dammit!' or 'Go to the depths!'. The way I figure it, if we start thinking with and using sayings and words that belong to our chosen infiltrator's species, it'd be more fluid and believable; don't you agree?_

He wanted to retort, but found he couldn't when he thought it out thoroughly; and came to the same conclusion she did. _Well Dar…I mean Spirits dammit, you're right. This is going to take some getting used to._

_I know I am, and thanks. I'm still getting the hang of it myself, so in a way, we're learning this together; and I'd have it no other way._

_Together indeed: now and forever. _He told her, and when she turned to look at him in apparent shock, he was confused for a second; at least until he realized what they'd both said. They then proceeded to look at opposite sides of the entrenched warzone around them, and she 'cleared her throat' over the connection.

_I'll go and do that thing now. _She said in an obvious attempt at changing the subject.

_Yeah, do that. _He replied, trying to do the same.

Her projected avatar fizzled and disappeared like it was made of static, and the only person besides him that immediately noticed was Salonia. "Where'd she go?"

"To start the final phase of this mission." he answered vaguely.

"Hold up: final phase? What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Drutus questioned him, and after he had, fired off another burst at one of the asari husk's legs, followed by the creature's chest when the offending limb buckled under his shots.

"All I'll say is that you may want to prepare for something unexpected."

"Like what?!" Calvatia growled out, apparently still peeved about her arm.

Rather than respond, he pointed to where one of the Defiled started to glow a bright blue while raising itself in the air with it's arms outstretched, and if that wasn't enough, Ocean did something he remembered his 'old friend' Harbinger had an apparent fetish for: being overly dramatic.

"ASSUMING DIRECT CONTROL." the now supercharged asari husk said in a low pitched and menacing female voice, and he rolled his eyes at her theatrics. She then proceeded to throw an obnoxiously large and brightly glowing warp at the ruined aircar Drutus had been using for cover, and succeeded in ripping through it like paper; forcing the now cursing turian to roll behind a pile of rubble common throughout the 'ruined city' landscape Orchestra had made for this scenario.

When the man came out of his roll, he sent a glare through his clear visor at Hystuss that could melt through a steel wall, and continued his stream of curses. Ocean apparently decided to go all out, and said something that made the turian on the receiving end loudly growl in anger. "YOUR DEFEAT IS INEVITABLE. YOUR ATTEMPT AT RESISTANCE IS PATHEITC. ACCEPT YOUR DEATH, FOOLISH ORGANICS, AND JOIN THE RANKS OF THE ASSIMILATED."

"FUCK YOU, YOU BITCH! FUCK YOU TOO, YOU BASTARD! YOU KNOW WHAT?! FUCK EVERYBODY! THIS IS NOT WHAT WAS SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN, YOU DAMNED SQUIDS!"

He shook his head in both amusement and pity as the team was torn to shreds by the unexpected powerhouse that was an unleashed Reaper War Form, and when all but Salonia and Lavaeus were laying 'dead' on the ground and occasionally missing a limb or two, that is to say that when they were 'killed' their bodies dropped like a rock and they were forced into a spectator's view from above, he finally stepped in and told them the overall point the two of them were trying to make. While he did, the entire battlefield seemed to freeze, as no one and nothing moved a muscle for several moments. "Always have a plan in case everything goes horribly wrong. In spite of what it might look like, this is absolutely something the Reapers can and will do; so if any of you want to last in a real fight against them, I suggest continuing these training sessions."

He nodded at the body Ocean was still operating, and she returned the nod, before leaving the husk behind; and it disintegrated into ash soon after she did, as a baseline husk just wasn't meant to handle that much exertion put on it.

After numerous experiments involving husk creation over the past month-and-a-half while his and Ocean's infiltrator bodies 'slept' in order to keep up appearances, which led to the discovery of what the time period's races were turned into when he had them converted following standard Reaper guidelines, he found out that very few husks could actually handle the onrush of sheer power that 'possessing' one of them created; and came to understand precisely why they were a relatively uncommon sight in the war from his time. _What good is an incredibly powerful soldier if it can only 'survive' for a few minutes before burning out? Useful for siege breaking, taking out high value targets, and leading a frontal assault, but not much else. It's a waste of troops to continuously use husks not built to handle it, and as arrogant as they are, Reapers are anything but inefficient with their resources._

As the mock battle ended, the 'dead' turians rose up from the ground and stood normally; all their wounds having been erased.

"Next time, don't just drop something like that on us unexpectedly." Lavaeus told him with a disapproving frown.

"That's the whole point: it was unexpected." he noticed how the others sent glares at him, and then Ocean when she reappeared. "But…I'll admit this was a bit much after only a week of training in here. So, to make it up to you all, I'll give each of you the next six hours of real-time off to enjoy at a special resort sim I've been crafting alongside Orchestra and Ocean. It's got mountain retreats, bustling nightclubs, hunting zones for any animal on the extranet, relaxing spas, anything you can think of really."

That seemed to brighten them up if the smiles he could see thanks to them pulling off their helmets, along their pleased subharmonic hums were anything to go by; and he chuckled at the motley bunch of turians in front of him. As he always did at the end of their sessions, he made a set of doors appear for each of them to go through that would take them to their respective 'mind palaces' as Ocean described it one time. "Go on, get out of here. You've all got a few minutes until I come over to bring you lot to the vacation sim, so until then, I suggest you spend the time planning what you want to do. Oh, and Calvatia? Salonia?"

The women in question looked at him, with the former being the first one to speak. "Yeah?"

"Once this trip is over with, you'll both need to unplug and take care of your actual bodies. However, the good news is that if all goes according to current projections, you won't be the only ones to leave the network."

"Does that mean what I think it does?!" Salonia asked with barely concealed joy.

"Yup: the building process will be finished by then, and they'll be as good as new." He told her with a smile, and she squealed like the little girl she pretended not to be. She practically skipped off to join Setherus in going through his 'door', as Hystuss found out their 'mind palace' was the same place when he went to hers; and rather than stay by themselves while they were here, the siblings decided to stick together so they could properly catch up with each other.

With that dealt with, the two Reapers left the group to their own devices as they went to make the finishing touches on the steadily expanding simulation that was their combined pet project over the course of weeks; even the third aspect of their existence had occasionally joined in every now and then during it's creation, if only because Hystuss told him/it to.

_It'll be nice to relax for a bit, even if it's all 'unnecessary and a waste of time' according to Orchestra. I know he's the only one of us that lacks a true range of emotions, but he needs to learn to lighten up a little. Without some peace and quiet in-between all the action and work, any normal person would go crazy; and while the two of us are anything but 'normal' anymore, we still need a nice vacation once-in-awhile. Ahhhhh, I can't wait to enjoy some time on a beach or two. Might even go deep sea fishing with Ocean if she's up for it; I know I miss being able to go swimming for a few days straight myself. Hmm, maybe I'll visit the hanar home world if I find the time for it; I hear Kahje's ocean is world-spanning just like ours used to be._

After a minute of real-time passed, in which everything from the programmed 'citizens' down to the 'wild animals' was checked and found to still be in working order, he went to get his fellow vacationers for some well-earned time off.

* * *

**Soooo, about the longer than normal wait between chapte-hey-no-stop-you almost-! *he dodges multiple thrown objects, and closes the door he came through* *he opens it tentatively to see if he can come out, and does so* Come on, it wasn't THAT long! Honestly, the impatience of some people! *the crowd glares at him and slowly raises more stuff to throw* Err, I mean I shouldn't have kept you waiting; shame on me. *he chuckles nervously, and they put the rocks, rotten fruit, and whatever else down* Anyywhhooo; I was just very busy lately and couldn't find the time to write (and after having to cut 2k words soon after the chapter's beginning thanks to realizing it wasn't up to my normal standards, I couldn't find the drive to either). Sorry about that. If it's any consolation, I hope this longer than normal chapter makes up for it.**

**Also, I'm debating something and can't decide, so I figured I'll leave it up to the readers: do you guys want to actually see parts of the 'vacation', or would you rather it be skipped in favor of pushing the plot forward at a faster rate? Either way, just let me know through reviewing, and depending on which one wins, I'll keep it in mind for the next chapter.**

**Points if you recognize the reference I made using the unnamed system's, err, well, name. Even more points if you can figure out precisely which system it actually is.**

**Alongside that Halo/ME xover I'm working on (have the basic outline planned for the first couple chapters, just need to write them; which I will be doing as of now), I've also started work on an Overlord (insert original Japanese translation here) and Skyrim self-insert crossover. It's still a work-in-progress, but considering how I've been a fan of Overlord since before season 2 aired, and considering how many Skyrim play-throughs I have under my belt, I can't wait to get started one way or the other. To that end, both ends really, I'm not going to work on this specific story for a couple weeks, maybe longer. That's not to say I'm going to abandon this, far from it in fact; I just want to start working on my other projects for a bit.**

**Alrighty then: TIME FOR SOME FREAKING CODEX ENTRIES! WOOHOOOO! *clears throat in embarrassment* Yeah, that. Now, keep in mind that these aren't all of the new/altered husks I'll be using; rather, they're simply the ones mentioned in this chapter (as Cannibals haven't been changed, they don't get a reworked entry). Oh, and I'll eventually add all these into their own special chapter sometime down the road; just letting you know. (PS: As these are codex entries made from the time of the Reaper War, expect the 'narrator guy' to explain some of their names in a way that can be told to your average citizen; because it would be rather troublesome to reveal to the public that they were in fact named over a thousand years ago by a group of people that didn't officially exist at the time. Oh, and be sure to read them in narrator guy's voice; makes it better in my opinion.)**

**Saboteurs: Former salarians capable of cloaking, strategic ambushes, sneak attacks, and assassination, these husks are rarely ever seen on the front lines; instead deployed ahead of Reaper invasions and assaults as scouts, to decapitate the local force's leadership, or to destroy vital defenses and fortifications undetected. Armed with dual omni-blades, the only ranged attacks they possess are enhanced tech mines, and are highly skilled in their usage, further aided by Reaper technology.**

**Demons: Biotic shock troops and psychological weapons capable of tearing through entrenched positions using nothing but raw biotic power, these former asari will close in on their opponents to use deadly claws and their natural abilities to great effect. When entering combat they release a deafening scream, often described by turians as the screech of a forgotten spirit, or by humans as a banshee's wail. No matter the species, this scream is surprisingly effective in shattering the morale of already tired soldiers. Rarely seen on the battlefield, they have been known to change the tide wherever they are deployed, often making any forces engaged flee due to fear factor alone. [Note: basically, they're just Banshees except with a different name because, well, banshee is a thoroughly human one.] **

**Defiled: Typically deployed in squads of eight, these asari husks are used mostly as biotic and/or sniper support. Their accuracy is unmatched among Reaper troops, with both their biotics and the semi-automatic rifles they often carry, but their close range fighting capabilities are sub-par. To make up for this, they avoid getting close to their opponents: instead using biotics and their natural agility to stay at a distance, harassing them with sniper fire, warps and throws. While they lack the more demoralizing scream of their larger and less common counterpart, the Demon, their features have been twisted into a cruel mockery of what they once appeared as; earning their name thanks to the still living asari forced to engage them as a result.**

**Marauders: Turian husks that fill the roll of officers and squad leaders, they improve the tactics and coordination of any nearby Reaper forces; making them more intelligent on an individual level as they act as a central processing hub, able to command those under them with the skill of 20 year veterans thanks to the combined thinking power of dozens of Reaper ground troops. Strangely, this appears to have no effect on other Marauders, and there are rarely any Reaper forces comprised solely of this husk variant, more often being used in conjunction with other types. They can wield every modern weapon type to great effect, but will most often be seen with an unusual Reaper assault rifle visually similar to a Phaeston that destroys itself upon it's owners death. It is unknown exactly how the weapon is made, but from field reports, they seemingly never overheat; thermal clips unnecessary for their continued function.**

**Possessed: While this Reaper ground unit is not limited to any singular husked race, certain aspects of it remain true across every variant discovered so far: they are incredibly dangerous, and should never be engaged with anything less than a company of Marines or an armored vehicle. According to reports, the only way for any fighting force incapable of killing it to survive an encounter with one is to attempt to flee. The reason behind this is that the process that leaves the husk empowered fortunately also burns out it's nervous system in a spectacular fashion that results in the atomic incineration of the reanimated body, typically within ten minutes after the husk is first 'possessed'. Should you find one while alone, do not engage, and if possible, report it's position to nearby allied forces for a concentrated artillery barrage.**

**Ah, that felt good to finally put out there. Thanks for reading my guys and gals! If all goes well, expect the next chapter for this to be out in, hopefully, a month or less (fingers most definitely crossed). As always, I hope you enjoyed and I'll see you next time!**


	19. Chapter 19

*****The Broken Reaper*****

**Chapter 19: Awakening: Interlude: Well Deserved Downtime**

* * *

**AN: New and hopefully improved format for chapter titles, times, locations, etc. Guess we'll see how it works out. Now then: reviews.**

**Blaze1992: Huh. Looking back, it does seem rather similar to the matrix trilogy in basic premise. Guess I'm secretly a genius. *shrugs* Anywho, I'll leave the ideas for those three (might be more, might be less; my memory sucks) fics we discussed at the bottom for everyone to voice their opinions about. Also: does this count as romance for them? I'm just going to say maybe, because honestly, even I don't know for sure (my own fault for having the burn be so slow it's a toddlers crawl compared to most others).**

**Tom712: *opens mouth to angrily say something and points his index finger straight up* *pauses and closes his mouth while folding his finger back down; a thoughtful look on his face* *repeats this twice* *eventually settles on grumbling* No comment.**

**Bit of a filler chapter with this one, but hey, that's kind of the whole point of interludes. Well, can't think of anything else to add here, so enjoy! Oh, right! Small tidbit: just think Pacific Rim during the following couple scenes. If you don't know what that is, then just think Evangelion except live-action. If you still don't know what I'm talking about, you have a very sad life.**

**Also, the bottom AN is…well, I may have gone a bit overboard with it. You'll see what I mean when you get there (and hopefully read).**

* * *

**Day 5 of the Vacation.**

"Mountain climbing?" she asked.

"Did that two days ago." he responded.

"Deep sea exploring?"

"We did that yesterday though! I mean sure, it's beautiful, but I want to try something new today; being the second to last day of our little vacation and all."

"Hmmm…we haven't tried riding the whales Orchestra put in, right?"

He thought over it a moment, barely a millisecond in reality, and shook his head. "It might be fun, true; but at the same time, I was thinking something a bit more exciting than that." They both paused to think, and he eventually snapped his fingers as an idea came to him. "Say, what about an extended combat session?"

She raised an eyebrow, the patch of skin a slightly darker white that was almost a light grey when compared to the rest of her body, her strands shifting minutely in the simulated ocean breeze, also a near grey color; and he found himself appreciating the original form of his 'other half' all the more for it. _I'll admit, it's nice to walk around with our real faces' for once, even if we aren't REALLY walking around. Although….that is a rather…interesting…outfit she has on. God a-er, Spirits, it certainly doesn't leave much to the imagination, does it? How come I don't remember seeing any of the women in the resistance wearing that? Was I simply too focused to notice at the time?_

She wore a thin, skintight bodysuit that was normally used for casual activities on any beach by their kind: comfortable and durable enough to run, exercise, and swim in, but also easy to put on and take off as it was a simple matter to stretch the material whenever needed. He wore something similar, albeit thicker and designed more for daily life, but still conforming to his nigh perfect physique. After all, a life spent training followed by a century of near constant warfare forced anyone to shape up, and fit wasn't even beginning to describe his well-earned build; and though it wasn't as obvious for Ocean, he could still make out the defined muscle underneath the more revealing, but still practical, suit covering her.

He caught himself staring for a moment too long and decided to find something interesting on her face to look at, like her bright, sapphire blue eyes and how they twinkled with mischief in the midday sun, or her cream white skin practically glowing under the light. As foreign emotions once more threatened to show themselves, and he experienced the odd sensation of an involuntary burning sensation in his cheeks, he then decided to try and locate a decent spot for the proposed activity on the surrounding beach.

The fact he intended to use such a romantic veranda as a massive sparring ground was lost on both of them, with the first part not even registering in either of their mind's.

"Something wrong?" she asked after noticing his nervous behavior.

"No, it's nothing; I was just thinking is all." he brushed off as convincingly as he could manage, and she shrugged. He turned back to the beach and folded an arm over his chest, the other one propped up on it while scratching his chin; and he completely missed the repeated glances the other person leveled at his ever-present muscles as he moved. "So, like the idea?"

She blinked to clear her own thoughts, and hummed for a second. "It has its merits I suppose. A nice, calming, vacation is well and good and all that; but Goddess does it get boring."

He raised an eyebrow at the alien terminology, but had to remind himself of why it was necessary. _*sigh* Life is strange at times. I wouldn't be surprised if before too long it'll become totally normal in my mind to talk like that; who knows, I might even be able to adapt to new phrases and cultures like it was second nature. Wonder if it has anything to do with my thought processes being altered mechanically, or if I change them through organic means by actively making myself use different terminologies?_

He forced himself back to the present, internally berating himself for so easily losing focus as if he wasn't yet used to the raw thinking power he possessed, and replied after the seconds he'd wasted in pointless speculation had passed. "Agreed. So, any special rules or situations you had in mind?"

She hummed again, but this time, he knew it was fake, as she gave him a playful smirk. "Wellllllll, I might have an idea or two from some vids I found on Wetube."

"Such aaasssss?" he gestured for her to let it out with a flick of his hand.

Rather than respond, she merely pointed behind him, and he followed the direction she indicated: it being out on the ocean proper. Two massive, towering, mechanical people, for lack of a better term, slowly rose from the ocean depths. Temporarily confused, he then examined them more closely: one was painted a dark grey with bright orange highlights and appeared to be a mirror image of him with his internal armor equipped, bar the colors that belong to his turian armor that is, while the other was bright blue with purple highlights, combined with a lean build and rather obvious bulges on the upper chest, making it look similar to Ocean in her preferred asari armor.

It took him a whole two seconds to figure out the purpose of them, and he couldn't stop the face-splitting child-like smile that formed over his features, nor did he want to. "Don't tell me those are what I think they're for!?" he half asked, half said; his voice being incredibly giddy while doing so.

She smiled herself, and not even what she said next kept him from anticipating the soon-to-be gigantic, both literal and metaphorical, brawl he was already imagining. "Those will just be the primary bodies. I'm thinking we should each be given an army by Orchestra to have some fun here on the beach too; no direct interference from the big boys, but we're allowed to try and multitask via possessing any of the smaller troops. Just don't complain if you lose because you were distracted in one of the smaller fights."

"They have swords, right?"

"*pfft* Of course they do! I'm not a barbarian!"

"Have I mentioned how glad I am that you know precisely what I love doing?" he said with a bit of drool unknowingly escaping the corner of his mouth at the potential large-scale (pun intended) battle.

"Hey, this is going to be a blast for me too, so don't think you're the only one getting something out of it. Oh, and if it wasn't obvious, the blue one's mine!" Without another word, her body fizzled out of existence, and he shook his head in amusement at the childish tone, entirely ignoring his own actions up to that point. Not wanting to lose before it even started, he did the same; and just as promised, a sizeable army formed itself on opposite ends of the beach they'd just left.

When he settled into his new skyscraper sized form, he took a moment to appreciate the view offered by the ludicrous height advantage. For no reason other than an irrational impulse, he then proceeded to slam his gigantic fist into the palm of his other hand in front of his chest: a satisfying and near deafening *CLANG* coming from the impact.

"YOU READY YET, MUSCLEHEAD?!" Ocean yelled over the machine's external speakers, the sound echoing for miles in the digital space.

"BRING IT ON, CODE-FOR-BRAINS!" he yelled back, the rumble of their voices causing sizeable ripples in the surrounding water.

Immature, yet partially accurate insults having been traded – just like any proper fight in a situation like this – they ran towards each other with quite literally ground shaking steps; and were it not for an invisible barrier protecting it, there would've been numerous tidal waves crashing onto the beach where the opposing armies clashed. Before too long, they'd both be hopping between the 'big' and 'little' fights that followed; turning the former paradise into the far more familiar and almost nostalgic scene of constant, raw, and unadulterated destruction they were used to from their past.

In other words: they were having the time of their infinitely longer lives.

* * *

_**Meanwhile, in another sim.**_

"You always were the lucky one." he grumbled out.

"Not my fault you skipped the marksmanship classes in basic." she told him smugly.

"I did that once! Once! And I got so chewed out for it I never did it again! Have you been secretly training with Calvatia when I'm not looking?" he asked in suspicion.

"What? No! Spirits no! I mean she seems like a nice person when you get to know her, but when it comes to anything related to sniping…" Salonia shivered ever-so-slightly. "Let's just say she can be scary."

Setherus nodded in agreement, remembering how frighteningly efficient the scarred woman was during their 'training sessions' against Reaper ground troops. "So, now that you've thoroughly trounced me at the shooting range, want to go see what the others are doing?"

She shrugged non-committedly. "I guess. We…we won't be stopping by Drutus' sim, will we?" she asked in more than a little dread.

This time he was the one to shiver, remembering in perfect detail the particular scene that they walked in on. "Nope."

_I mean I know this whole place was built with relaxation in mind, but to think it also includes that particular type of 'relaxation'..…if I never have to see so many women of so many different species' in those types of positions again for all my remaining days, I'll be a happy turian._

She let a breath out in relief, obviously glad for his answer. "So, who are we seeing first then?"

He spent a moment to think about it, quickly arriving at a conclusion. "How about the squids? Last time we saw them they were exploring some sort of ocean world, weren't they? Maybe we can join in on whatever it is they're doing now."

"Say yeah; that might be fun!" she told him energetically, lightly bouncing up-and-down like a hyperactive child. He shook his head and chuckled in amusement at her nigh boundless energy, and when he did, she blinked repeatedly; soon followed by an embarrassed blush when she no doubt figured out why he was chuckling.

"Are you sure you're really 15?" he asked in good humor, and she crossed her arms and pouted; refusing to answer. "You look so adorable when you get angry."

"Adorable? ADORABLE!? I'LL SHOW YOU ADORABLE YOU UGLY, HALF-KROGAN,-" he tuned out the rest of her rant while walking to the 'shuttle pad' located in every sub-simulation attached to the primary resort, as it acted as the method for going between the various sims. _Go inside, pick a destination, sit back and relax, and a minute or two later you're in an entirely new world. Have to say, while some of the sims could definitely use a bit of work, I'm impressed at how thorough the three of them were in designing the various pieces of background information. I couldn't even tell the difference between the actual Citadel and the one they had built in here! Well, I mean the 'people' were a little too generic, and there were some areas I couldn't go to like the Citadel Tower, but that's to be expected I suppose. Guess not even those two were allowed to go in there for no real reason._

As she was following behind him, Salonia continued her angered yelling for another minute or so before calming down. Either that, or she ran out of breath.

"Feel better now?" he asked her with a hint of sarcasm.

"Yes, you ass, I'm good." she told him irritably.

"Glad to hear it, Little Sal." At the mention of her least favorite childhood nickname, she grumbled several rather rude insults under her breath. She eventually stopped the grumbling before speaking up again around a minute later; however, rather than continue along her previous verbal route, she surprised him with the way she sounded.

"If you're going to use nicknames instead, then just call me Graduate." she told him in an oddly level and almost detached tone of voice compared to her usual brash temper.

Setherus, not expecting the sudden shift in attitude from his normally easy to provoke younger sister, blinked dumbly; turning around to stare at her in mild shock. The temporary mental shutdown lasted only a brief moment before his now vastly enhanced – and partially artificial – mind essentially forced itself to reboot, but it was long enough for her to notice.

"What? Did I say something weird?" she asked, once more with her typical energy.

"No, nothing like that; I just…never mind. I was simply surprised you're actually willing to let me call you that now. I mean I thought you weren't a fan of the callsign." He was lying through his rather sharp teeth, but she didn't seem pick up on it. _Almost reminded me of our resident sniper there for a second. Probably just imagining it._

"Well, in hindsight I've come to the conclusion that it's not that bad in reality. I mean compared to the one's given to most of the group, I got off easy. You got Kid," his eye twitched a little in a habit he picked up from a certain white-skinned undead alien, "Calvatia got Ice (which makes sense when you think about it), Drutus got Newbie, heck, even Premalon wound up stuck with Boss; which I still don't understand why he dislikes, but the point stands. Although Lavaeus seems happy with Gramps, and Miss Entral'inon didn't mind being given Sub-Com when I asked her." she finished with a slight shrug, and he found himself agreeing with her; though he had to do a double take when he heard the last name mentioned.

"Wait, 'Miss Entral'inon'? And that issss?"

She tilted her head in confusion, answering him like this was something he should already know. "As in the Sub-Commander, who else?"

"You mean Ocean? I thought her real name was Sern'peduay?"

As they continued speaking, he barely registered the landing platform appear in the distance, still a good few minutes travel away in the mixed countryside/forest they were walking through.

"Well yeah, but that's just her first name. Don't tell me you never asked for her full name." He could only respond with a confused stare, and she stared back in disbelief. "Wait, seriously? You never stopped to think she would have more than that?"

"Uhhhh, no? I mean her asari alias is Cerhn Perdweigh, so I just assumed her actual name worked similarly."

Salonia groaned in frustration, though he couldn't figure out why. "No, you thick-plated doofus! Tre'scari names are always a mix of words, and can contain anywhere from four to eight of them; no more, no less. They are given only their clan name, otherwise referred to as their family name, upon birth; and only get a name unique to them when they learn to speak, and it will almost always be based off of their personality or something they managed to do before then. I spent a few hours talking to the two of them about their race, and from what I could tell, they were ecstatic that someone was asking. Honestly, how insensitive can you be? Don't you realize just what they've been through?!"

"Whoa, whoa, calm down, I get it; Spirits! You feeling alright, Sal?" he asked worriedly.

She looked at him furiously, only for her gaze to soften upon seeing his genuine concern, and she took in and released a ragged breath. "I…yeah, I'm fine; sorry about that. Guess I got more worked up than I thought." Salonia told him half-heartedly, and he hesitated to call her out on it.

"It's alright, it can happen every now and then; but if you want to talk, I'm right here you know. I mean what kind of big brother would I be if I ignored my favorite sister's problems?" he asked rhetorically with an exaggerated expression of being affronted on his face, trying to ease the sudden tension.

"I'm your only sister, you big moron." she told him with an eye roll, but he noticed the slight smirk her mandibles were forming.

"You sure? I mean last I saw Mom, she looked like she was packing on a little weight; and with her and Dad being as…active, as they are, you never know when we might be getting another sibling."

She gagged at the mention of the word 'active', and he noted with a mix of amusement and relief that he defused whatever problem was bothering her. "Ewwww, gross! I mean I don't even want to…blaaaggghhh!"

"Hey, you're at that age yourself now. Who knows: you might catch the eye of some muscular, loyal, and intelligent young officer looking for a good wife. I'm sure he'd do wonders for your attitude given a few years of nightly 'stress relief'." he told her with a massive grin, and her mandibles appeared to be doing their best effort of dropping to the floor.

He laughed at her reaction and started running, causing her to chase after him; yelling some rather colorful expletives along the way.

"Hey, my mother is your mother too last I checked, so if I'm a son of a bitch, what does that make you?!"

More cursing ensued, and he enjoyed a good bout of 'stay away from the angry Salonia' as they made their way to the waiting shuttle; her hot on his spurs for most of it, at least until she ran out of breath a few minutes in. Noticing this, he jogged back to where she was laying and heaving on the ground; a shit-eating grin on his face the entire time. "Awww, is the wittle Graduate all tired out?"

"Just…" she managed between gasps for air, making his grin grow even further, "just pick me up…you damn tireless cyborg…"

"Now, now, you forgot to ask nicely." he chided her playfully, earning a glare for his efforts. As he didn't move to help her, she growled in anger before relenting.

"Fine…please…help me up…"

"You see, now was that so hard?" She flipped him off, making him start laughing again.

Deciding to take pity on her, he leaned down with his back facing her and let her clasp her arms around his neck while he grabbed her legs, standing up again when he was sure she wouldn't fall off. _**[I won't do this often, but just to clarify: yes, he's giving her a piggy-back ride. I just didn't say that's what he did because, well, this is from the mindset of a turian. In other words: "What is this strange piggy creature you mention?"]**_

"Huh, did you lose weight? I don't remember it being this easy to carry you since before we were teens."

"Did you already forget you're as strong as a krogan now?" she asked him tiredly.

"Oh. Right. I am, aren't I?"

"I'm starting to see why you were given Kid rather than something more special; but if I had the option, you would've been stuck with doofus." She emphasized this by flicking his forehead with a talon, lightly chuckling when he narrowed his eyes at her in annoyance for the action. "Come on: we have a pair of incredibly ancient, near godly, super AI to check up on."

Bringing his mind back on track, he focused on the reason they'd set out in the first place. "That we do."

They eventually reached the shuttle and, so that Salonia could be more comfortable, he put her down in a seat to properly catch her breath.

"I still think it's unfair you don't even need to sleep anymore." she muttered after he did, just barely loud enough for him to hear.

"Trust me, it's not all that nice in reality. I mean, I can pretend to sleep and just let my mind wander, sure, but it's just not the same as closing my eyes and slowly drifting off on a comfortable bed. I can't dream, either. Well, I suppose being able to travel into digital realities' such as this makes up for it a little, but, once again, it's just not the same-" He caught Salonia looking at him in a mix of pity and…_sadness? Why is she sad right now?_

Worried he might inadvertently cause her to go into whatever mood she was in earlier, he cut himself off and cleared his throat. "But I suppose it's not all that bad, really. I mean like you said: I never get tired, am stronger than pretty much every other turian in the galaxy (barring Drutus and Lavaeus, of course; but even then, we're basically equals), and a bunch of other stuff I haven't even spent much time experimenting with just yet. Why I might even-" this time she was the one to cut him off rather than himself; her raising a hand in the middle of his rambling.

"Seth?"

"Yeah?"

"Whatever it is you're trying to do to with all that? You suck at it." She told him in perfect deadpan, and he came up short when he attempted to formulate a response; opening and closing his mouth repeatedly, causing her to chuckle. "Ahh, all that buffed-up brainpower, and I can still catch you off-guard without even trying."

"Hmmph!" was his indignant, and oh-so-very eloquent reply, making her snort in amusement.

After he picked the destination from the cockpit – it being fully automated in terms of actually going there – he went back into the passenger cabin and sat down. The pair of siblings passed the short journey in silence for the most part, only paying attention to the shuttle breaking atmosphere and entering FTL after it did. Deciding to break the silence, the younger Kalnen commented on it. "You know, this reminds me of a game loading screen for some reason. Now that I mention it, a lot of this feels like a sort of game."

"How so?"

"Well, the whole 'every planet has fast travel' in the form of point-to-point taxi aircars, the conveniently placed food vendors and shops operated by NPC's with a little more personality than the standard pedestrian, and then we have the fact that we can't permanently die: we simply pop up just outside of the last town we entered and go from there."

He took a moment to skim over his own memories of the past several 'days' they'd spent traveling across the various sub-sims, along with the Citadel sim they spent a fair chunk of time exploring early on in the vacation – as it was the resort sim proper, the rest were added for more variety according to what he was told by Ocean – and he arrived at a conclusion near identical to Salonia's. "Huh, never really thought about that. Now that you mention it though, this all does seem oddly game-y in design; at least when you discount the raw realism everything aside from the 'people' and 'revival mechanics' display. Think the squids have something planned for the future?"

"No clue. I'm just speculating is all." she said with a shrug, and he decided to simply nod before going back to enjoying the peace and quiet.

The 'trip' lasted another minute before they came out of FTL, the sight of a large ocean world with sporadic islands in front of them as they were now in the cockpit. "Still, it's pretty damn impressive how detailed they made each of these planets." Salonia idly commented after she noticed a pair of storms in said planet's lower hemisphere, one of which looked to be growing into a hurricane.

"Agreed." he said when he noticed the same thing, watching the swirling clouds down below as they spun around a steadily growing spot in the center.

As the shuttle headed towards the local landing pad, they went back into the passenger compartment to wait for the expected jolt to tell then when they landed. Upon touching down, Setherus opened the door, which allowed the blaring sounds and scenery in front of him to temporarily overwhelm his senses. His sister didn't fare much better, but unlike him, she lacked the inbuilt ability to forcibly adjust her body to rapid changes in the environment. After said changes took effect, he picked up on the sounds of countless explosions, electronic screeches, and nigh endless pops of small arms fire. While he did this, he noticed the tattered form of….something, limping it's way over to them. When it was close enough for him to get a good look, his eyes widened significantly. _Is that a turian husk? Ok, first off: why is it missing it's left arm, most it's right foot, and the top half of it's head? And second off: why is it coming to us?_

When it was within hearing distance (that is: thanks to the unending noise of warfare nearby, directly in front of him), the thing that should've been a corpse twice over started to speak. "Greetings, network guests. Do you wish us to inform Premalon and independent program registered 'Ocean' of your presence in this server?" it asked in a deep, emotionless, and echoing monotone; telling him who, or rather, what, was controlling it.

He took another glance at the flashes of light in the distance, seeing a pair of towering forms that he somehow knew were the ones they came to visit seemingly dance around each other inside a haze of smoke with, of all things, swords in hand, and watched as numerous missiles of various types flew through the air in the direction the husk came from. He then proceeded to look back to Salonia to get her opinion on it, only to notice she was still clasping both hands on her ears to block out what was undoubtedly deafening noise for any normal person. Having done this, he reached a decision rather easily. "No thanks Orchestra, we just wanted to see what they were doing." he told the machine.

"Affirmative, registered guest 'Setherus Kalnen'. Is there anything else we can help you with?"

"Again, no thanks. Like I said: we just came here to see what they were up to. Now that we have, I think it'd be best if we let the two of them have their fun." A piercing clang of metal impacting metal rang out in time with the word 'fun', followed by an increase in explosions from what he assumed was this island's beach, further encouraging him to leave. "Well it was nice talking to you I guess. See ya later!"

He turned around, not noticing the curious head tilt from the thing he had been talking to, and closed the shuttle door as soon as he was back inside with Salonia. Now that the Spirits blessed silence came over the interior once more, he waited until she recovered before saying anything. "Sooooo, guessing we should probably look out a window next time before jumping into whatever it is they're doing."

She winced at the slight pain she was still recovering from, and managed a weak glare his direction. "You think?" she asked rhetorically.

"Sometimes." Annoyed grumbling obviously ensued. "Come on, let's head back home. Figure that's as good a place as any to end our little vacation."

A grunt of agreement was the only reply she gave him; and so, they went back to the little slice of Palaven they'd lived on for the entirety of their childhood.

* * *

_**1**__**st**__** month, 1**__**st**__** day, 1028 CE, 8:97 GST, Councilor's quarters inside Hierarchy Compound, Citadel Presidium.**_

The first thing he felt upon waking up was a massive headache, followed by a lump of warmth next to him on the bed. _Oooohhhhh, that's a hangover. What was I doing again last night? Something to do with painting, spanking, my two bodyguards, my secretary, and throwing a New Year's party….I think?_

The memories were too foggy for him to recall most of the details, but, much to his satisfaction, he remembered the moments leading directly up to his current position next to who he now identified as Valora Sederis. As the partially blurry scene played out in his head, he found himself appreciating the…ingenuity she'd shown the previous night. _I've experienced Matriarchs, Dalatrass', a female quarian and asari Spectre (separately and simultaneously; I think they were trying to play counter-espionage for their respective governments and completely missed how much I was enjoying it), and even a female krogan once. For all their vaunted strength, the women of the species' are surprisingly gentle…well, in that she didn't break any of my bones during the process at least. Although, she was rather submissive compared to the stereotype, so who knows if that's what the rest of them are like. Ahhhh, I suppose there are a FEW good things about my job. Still, even with all that taken into account, Valora here easily ranks in the top…mmmmm…15 I'd say. Maybe top 10 if I'm being honest. Considering how young she is for her kind, I'm rather impressed at the experience shown._

While he went through the memories of his innumerable conquests (not that he was bragging; he had, in fact, long since lost track of the number) and compared them to the sex he'd enjoyed the previous night, he almost didn't notice the light groan that escaped his most recent partner. She shuffled around under the covers and stretched, an almost cute yawn let out to accompany it, and Herieus noticed, with a certain level of appreciation, that she lacked any articles of clothing. He already knew he was in a similar situation, but decided he felt comfortable enough without getting dressed; at least until he needed to do so for when he was inevitably forced to leave and attend to his other responsibilities.

She turned to look at him, still a little bleary-eyed from just waking up, and yawned a second time before speaking tiredly. "What time is it?"

"Just before 9. And what, not even a thank you?" he asked sarcastically in a low pitched voice, not wanting to agitate either of their headache's.

"Why? Last I checked, you enjoyed it just as much as I did." she replied with a small smirk and a bit of her own sarcasm, and he copied the expression.

"That's not what you said last night. Something about how 'I never knew turians could be so amazing! Please, more, more, mmmoooorree!'"

She scoffed, clutching her head after she did and grumbling something under her breath, eventually responding with her own comeback. "Is that how you remember it? Because from what I heard, there was an awful lot of pleasured squawking coming from your end. I mean at least I managed words during all that."

He huffed in defeat at losing the battle of witty 'after-action commentary', though he chuckled immediately afterward, and Valora followed suit; although their respective hangover's cut the period of mutual amusement short when the damned thing's made themselves known in response to the louder than acceptable noise. _Note to self: keep from drinking too much in the future. _

He thought about it for a second and decided to add another mental note on top of it. _Also note to self: don't make a promise you can't keep._

Oblivious to his thoughts, Valora stumbled out of bed in the direction of the bathroom directly attached to his bedroom. "You have a shower in there?" she asked around halfway between the bed and her intended destination.

"Yeah, I do, just be sure to use the shampoo in the blue bottle, not the green."

"Let me guess: green is dextro, blue is levo?"

"Yup."

She nodded and continued on, and he debated whether she'd mind the additional company while taking a shower. _Hmm, probably not a good idea right now. I mean sure, we've already had sex…how many times was it before we passed out from exhaustion? Well anyway, even with that, we're barely friends at best, and at worst simply acquaintances who let our hormones and alcohol riddled brains take over for a night; never mind the hangover getting in the way of things at the moment. Oh well, one step at a time I suppose._

Deciding to do something to pass the time while he waited for the opportunity to clean himself up, he reattached his omni-tool from the nightstand it was left on when he removed it in preparation for the previous night's activities and used it to turn on the holoscreen built into the opposite wall from the bed. _Let's see here…crap…crap…outright lies…already watched the vid five times…more crap…commercials…unconfirmed gossip that I already know to be false…*sigh* Which one was it again? Ah right, channel 177!_

He switched to the channel in question and was greeted with a familiar tan and white face with forest green markings on their mandibles, causing him to grin at the memories the other turian brought up. _"I'm Tasia Laelin, Hierarchy Hourly News, bringing you the updates for any ongoing stories. As I'm sure many of you know and possibly even participated in: last night, parties were thrown all across the Citadel to welcome the new year. While there were a few instances where the celebrations got out of hand, there have yet to be any reports of issues beyond excessive littering and the occasional overcrowding of bars and nightclubs resulting in minor property damage."_

_Party…party…wasn't there something like that that we attended?_

His thoughts were interrupted as the woman continued. _"One odd detail, however, was when a pedestrian came across some rather unusual graffiti near the base of the Citadel Tower." _Herieus blinked at the information due to it sounding familiar all of a sudden, and he paid close attention to what she said next. _"It is unknown who created the artwork as the local cameras were all somehow deactivated for a period of nearly ten minutes, but C-Sec has assured HHN that they're looking for those responsible. I should warn my audience members: the following image may be considered vulgar and/or unsuited for minors. Viewer discretion is advised." _she said mechanically, obviously having long since memorized the line.

When the image in question was put up, Herieus felt the air leave his lungs in momentary shock. It displayed a nude asari (blurred out of course) being held over the knee of a turian with her rear pointed towards the camera (also blurred out, though he unconsciously replaced it with what he knew to be behind the blur) and being spanked by the turian, her head tilted in such a way that it showed only half of her face; the expression on it making her look like she was experiencing some form of ecstasy. To top it off, there was a salarian painted off to the side that seemed to be examining the whole scene with curious eyes, as if he was watching it in fascination.

All of this wouldn't be too shocking by itself, stranger things have happened in the aftermath of previous New Year's celebrations, but the thing that made it special was who each of the people in the artwork closely resembled: the salarian looked vaguely similar to Councilor Bezom in his kind's favored diplomatic robes, the asari rather close to Councilor T'Loris (bar being completely naked, of course), and the turian was a near perfect match to Herieus' own face and typical daily outfit. When he put it all together, he felt bits and pieces of a memory resurfacing out of the fragments from the previous night involving paint, some type of system hack, and lots of snickering. The fact he knew he held quite a bit of skill as an artist (even a Councilor like him needs a hobby) played a rather large role in his conclusion of who was responsible, so he quickly decided to turn it off in favor of getting up to grab a cheap salarian knock-off of a turian beer from his fridge in the kitchen. Pausing to remind himself of exactly what put him in this situation, he settled for a bottle of purified water instead.

When he came back into the bedroom, still lacking clothes and bottle in hand, he was greeted by the sight of a dripping wet Valora, also still 'in the buff', digging through one of his closets in search of something. As he wasn't trying to be stealthy, she noticed him coming in and turned to face him, switching the 'scenery' she provided accordingly. "Where the fuck are the towels?"

"Did you check under the sink?"

Blinking, she cursed under her breath and went back into the bathroom, the bounce in her step making other 'things' bounce along with her; not that he was complaining. She came back out around ten seconds later while drying herself off with a bland white towel, uncaring of the lingering stares he sent her direction as she'd often do the same to him.

Deciding that the reciprocated ogling had gone on long enough, he spoke up: asking a question that he was rather curious about. "I've been wondering: did you actually manage to record the meeting we had with T'Loris yesterday?"

"That I did. Looking for some mood music?" she asked with a lustful grin.

"Something like that. Although you have to admit, the look on her face when we dropped it all on her out of nowhere was first-class material." He told her with a smirk, turning it into a grin of his own when he continued. "Besides, I cleared out my schedule for today to have the opportunity to 'celebrate' with a couple 'acquaintances' of mine. Figure I won't need to do that now, if you're willing of course."

Her eyes lit up in anticipation, and she surprised him with her next words. "What race are they, and could you still invite them over?"

"Uhh, a quarian and turian escort that I've known and employed for a few years now. You'd be surprised at how useful they are when it comes to gathering information on political rivals and relieving…tension, from my job." He added the second part absentmindedly. "You sure you wouldn't mind the extra company?"

She shook her head vigorously, only to stop when she undoubtedly felt her hangover rising up again; although it seemed like it failed to decrease her enthusiasm. "Nononono, I wouldn't mind it ooonnneee bit!"

He shrugged, this not being a first time for him even if her sheer excitement at the prospect was unusual from his perspective, and instead began replacing his bedsheets with clean ones, even though he knew he'd need to repeat the process soon enough if the growing libido he felt was anything to go by. "I'll send a message asking them to come over tonight."

She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively and picked up her omni-tool from a nearby pile of clothes, immediately connecting it to the holoscreen and beginning to play the ten minute recording of the two of them tearing into the asari Councilor like a couple of sharks that smelled blood in the water; forcing T'Loris into more than one agreement that made her visibly seethe in silent rage. "And, pray tell, what are we going to do until they get here?"

"Whatever we want." he replied huskily, signaling to them both that a continuation of their previous activities was soon to follow.

"Well aren't you an eag-" He didn't let her finish, instead continuing the 'conversation' via other means; and because of it, it took him another hour to finally send that message off and take a proper shower.

* * *

**Well then, this has at long last been completed. The two Reaper's have a combat fetish (been hinting at this for a while now), the Kalnen's get some sibling bonding time as well as a lesson to always look before you leap, and Campascus and Valora are just being themselves. Kinda debating if I should switch one of the labels to humor instead, considering my writing style. *shrugs* Food for thought.**

**Sooooo…..blah blah blah, delays, blah blah blah, sorry, blah blah blah, I'll try not to repeat it in the future, you get the picture. Anyway, onto more important news! While it may have taken a while for me to update this, I do have a good reason, two of them in fact: I made a second chapter in the side story of fellow author ThePilotArchangel's main fic, A Ghost and a Spectre (good story, check it out, you know the drill), as well as finally posting the first chapter of that Halo/ME crossover that I've been working on! It's name is An Old Machine's New Home, and it's somehow already gotten half as many favs and follows as this….is it possible to feel both happy about the attention it's receiving and also sad that it'll probably surpass this as my most popular story soon enough? I mean I did sorta expect it to skyrocket in popularity compared to this (Halo/ME xovers have a tendency to be super popular after all), but it still surprised me with the frankly humongous growth in the first week or so.**

**Anywho, that aside, I've been going over several other story ideas with Blaze1992 in PM's, and agreed to let you guys see if you think they might be interesting. (WARNING: Not everything you're about to read will remain as is in the final draft; this is just intended to give a decent taste of what they would be like.)**

**Grunt SI: I go to sleep one night after a few quick rounds of team deathmatch in (insert generic FPS here) and find myself dreaming that I'm covered by some strange liquid. I can't see anything but I can breathe without any problems, so I don't panic at first; this isn't the weirdest dream I've experienced, but it's certainly more realistic than most. Then, suddenly, I hear a flushing sound and feel the liquid slowly disappearing. Confused at this development, as I don't remember ever being able to feel inside a dream, I become even more confused when the tube opens and I'm nearly blinded by light. I fall forward to a knee and cough up some of the translucent material I'm positive I used to be surrounded by, standing up after I did. Is everything supposed to look so tiny? The first thing I notice is that I'm definitely not in my bedroom anymore. The second thing I notice is a man with a buzz cut that I vaguely recognize from somewhere watching me warily, as if he expects me to do something; and I idly note that whoever he is, he seems almost...small, from my perspective, like everything else I can see so far. Frail. Weak. **_**Prey**_**. I don't have enough time to properly realize how unusual this trail of thought is, however, as the third and final thing I notice before my body switches to autopilot for an unknown reason is that I finally recognized my surroundings as well as who the man is, and, with a brief glance behind me, the tube I came from as well. In the end though, those thoughts quickly become unimportant background information as all I want to do IS SMASH SOMETHING IN WITH MY BARE HANDS BECAUSE VIOLENCE IS AWESOME! RAAAHHHHH! All-in-all, not the best way of introducing myself to Shepard, but hey, at least we had a good laugh about it later; although I think Edi is still a bit upset that I "ruined a perfectly good stack of crates" with my rampage, and that the costs to replace them would be removed from my salary. Oops. Do krogan super-soldiers get hazard pay from a human terrorist organization?**

**Ardat-Yakshi SI: I come home, tired from a long day at work, and collapse on my bed; only sparing the effort to wrap the covers around me. The last thing I hear before drifting off is some sort of strange, almost childish, giggling in the background, but I ignore it as I assume it's the neighbor's kids getting rowdy. When I open my eyes again, I need to squint them due to the oddly bright sunlight coming from my window. My suddenly very large, very curtain-less window, giving me a view of nature that's not quite normal when compared to what I'm used to, along with the fact that it's definitely not the houses, street, and nearby city park I should've seen when I looked out from it. Blinking, I look around to try and figure out where I am, and my eyes land on a man laying next to me in bed, him being completely motionless; not even his chest rising and lowering to intake air as it should have. Aside from that helpful piece of information my still drowsy mind didn't manage to pick up immediately, WHY IS THERE A DUDE IN MY BED, AND WHY IS HE NAKED?! A sudden yelp escapes my throat in surprise when I first see him, only for it to come out closer to a near shriek instead. A very high pitched shriek at that, which, considering I've had a low pitched and fairly normal voice for a man my age for my entire life, worried me almost as much as the dude I woke up next to. As this thought registers, I quickly put a hand over my mouth, only for it to instead smack into something hanging on my chest; causing a surprising amount of pain. I look down to see what it is and feel the blood drain from my face. I have boobs. **_**And they're blue! **_**What the hell's going on?! In hindsight, the answer was pretty obvious even if it was utterly ridiculous to actually comprehend at the time, and it wouldn't be the last time I heard that cursed giggle before something extremely bad for me went down. As it stands, I hate playing Mass Effect in first person, and I miss being a normal guy with a normal life….but mostly, I just miss being a guy in general. It gets weird being the alien equivalent of a super model all the time, never mind the uncomfortable stares literally everyone and their mother sends my way. Seriously, she looks too old to even contemplate that sort of thing anymore, and I can tell that even without being able to properly judge a turian's age! Oh, and Justicars are a thing, because apparently, a massive and ancient army of murder robots bent on galactic genocide wasn't bad enough for my health; noooo, I ALSO have to deal with an order of space monks who all wield the more sparkly version of the force, and happen to be dedicated to either locking me up in a prison/monastery for the rest of my life (which, as it turns out, IS PRETTY FREAKING LONG NOW) or turning me into a particularly messy smear on the wall. Yeaaaahhhhh. Have I mentioned how much I hate my life right now?**

**And last but not least, a story that may change in time period if not basic premise (hence why I don't mention precisely when it takes place); but the thing that truly makes it special is that depending on the reaction it gets it could become either an independent story all on it's own (if a short one), or it could join up with the timeline of this down the road to derail canon even further. Oh and apologies if it seems I'm playing favorites with the length, but once I started it more or less wrote itself.**

**Potential AU or partner story for Broken Reaper: A scout ship is sent to explore new relays in preparation for a planned increase in colonies from the Council. The crew, three salarians, two asari, and a pair of turian guards just in case, head out in high spirits at the possible discoveries they could make. As they were given permission to do so (under strict guidelines to escape to FTL if they discovered a species advanced enough for space travel), they pick a relay believed to exit somewhere between salarian and batarian space. It ends up being a relay hub, much to their glee (while they don't know it, the name of that hub will eventually become Arcturus), and while the hub system itself doesn't have anything more interesting than a few uninhabited planets, they take note of the abundance of mineral resources ripe for mining. Deciding that to return after such a short trip would be a waste of the opportunity given to them, they pick another relay at random to travel through; the salarians in particular wanting to explore further. They do so, and end up in a system of eight planets evenly divided by a large asteroid field orbiting a healthy yellow star, and take note that the relay on the receiving end is in the process of breaking from a thick casing of ice; proving that no alien race has used it in thousands of years at the very least, to their relief (no one wants another Rachni War after all). Thinking that they hit the jackpot; the dwarf planet that the relay orbits around was unimpressive, however, the next two planets they discovered were extremely promising for future helium-3 mining, and one of the larger gas giants had a moon or two that might become viable colonies if terraformed properly; their next discovery was like a dream come true for the explorers. The third planet from the local star showed signs of vegetation, and, not detecting anything that even resembled spacecraft in orbit in spite of the obvious signs of habitation from the night side, they began approaching it to get a more thorough scan on the technology and various other topics of the most likely primitive species they had just discovered. Sadly, while passing near the asteroid field, their small exploration vessel experienced an unexpected meteor shower; and the miniscule shields were easily overwhelmed by the space rocks flying by, doing serious damage to the engines and sending them on a collision course with their intended destination. Due to the damage, the escape pods were almost completely destroyed, and their communications array took a hit as well; meaning that unless they underwent serious repairs, they were very much so stranded. Preparing for the worst, they strap in and hope the impact wouldn't obliterate the vessel outright. The ship hits the planet with slightly less speed than the meteors that put them in this situation, leaving a massive crater and drawing the attention of the "locals" for miles around. The sole survivor of the crash is an asari with severe head trauma, to the point of her not even remembering her own name, and ends up being found by a nearby farmer – as he happened to own the field the ship crashed in – who, upon seeing the strange and heavily bleeding woman – even her blood an unusual color, never mind her skin – decides to nurse her back to health as best he could. The situation from then on would massively change the future of this fledgling race only just starting to grasp the concept of visiting the stars, and would lead to a vastly different humanity stepping foot off of Earth from what would have been.**

**Well then…that turned out to be longer than intended. Aannnyyywaayysss! If you have thoughts on any of them, whether you might be interested to read them, think they could be adjusted to make more sense, don't think they're interesting enough by your standards, or even if you just want me to get off my lazy butt and stop distracting myself with other projects, I'd love to hear it! Reviews are an author's proverbial morning cup of coffee: it might not taste all that good (at least I don't think it does), but you still want it every chance you get as it gives you enough energy to push through even the hardest jobs (or in this case: a particularly long bout of me simply not working on this like I should). The point is, please review! If you don't, for all I know I could be making stuff that a drunk monkey would think is garbage. Ok, that's exaggerating a little, but you know what I mean.**

**As always (say it with me folks!), I hope you enjoyed and I'll see you next time!**


	20. Chapter 20

*****The Broken Reaper*****

**Chapter 20: Awakening: Let the Games Begin**

* * *

**AN: Huh. I admit, I missed writing for this. Quite a bit of plot advancement in this chapter, but seeing as how I don't really want to spoil it, let's get to reviews.**

**Pteaset: Your review was short and nice, but what really made me happy is that when I saw your name I was reminded of when you first reviewed all those months ago. Thanks for sticking with me!**

**Prometheus-777: Talk much, you do. Happy, it makes me. Read too many Star Wars fanfics these past two months, I did. Go back to reading them after posting this, I shall. [Covered in a PM] **

**Tom712: I refuse to acknowledge you changing your name to reference a practice that you know drives me crazy. Anywho, as for the actual review, good to know; your input has been taken into account and, as the guy I originally brought it up with preferred anyway, the shipwreck story will be a separate AU. [Post response edit: And you changed your name back anyway…are you doing this just to laugh at my frustration? Well? WELL? Because believe me, it's not working; I'm. Perfectly. CALM! WHAT, YOU DON'T BELIEVE ME?! I AM THE PINNACLE OF ZEN RIGHT NOW! NAJSINDNEIEIWK *senseless keyboard smashing continues*]**

**Guest: Heh, glad you liked it; came up with the idea in a stroke of inspiration when I realized just what the two of them are like. As for that particular ship…they're siblings. This is not that type of story, and never will be.**

**Fredih: Hmm. I like that. Hope you don't mind if I borrow that description for whenever someone asks what it's like ("crazy, in the absolute best possible way"). Yeah, that's what I was thinking about it too: how different would Earth be with alien tech literally dropped right in front of us like that? Thanks for the kind words about my writing style; I will admit to feeling mildly embarrassed by it, but in a good way. No, I didn't blush…shut up….**

**Blackberry Avar: While this started fairly short, it wound up being too long for me to consider making it a standard response. Other than that, thanks for the review! [Covered in a PM] **

**valdiusmacto: Certainly an interesting name you've got there; sounds like something from Harry Potter lol. Anyway, thanks for the review! Nice to know you're enjoying my particular brand of crazy, and I hope the next several chapters don't disappoint as we move into the future of the story. Also, your wish regarding me writing more has been granted.**

**Right, not much else to say here really. Oh and yes, the first couple lines of dialogue are a shameless Star Wars reference. I blame seeing a hilarious clip from Star Wars Robot Chicken for the idea (if you want to know what, just look up "robot chicken this deal is getting worse all the time" on youtube; it's a scream, trust me).**

* * *

**1****st**** month, 5th day, 1028 CE, 10:98 GST, Hierarchy Compound, Citadel Presidium.**

"_-an't do this Campascus! That was never a condition of our arrangement!"_

"I have altered the deal. Pray to your goddess I don't alter it any further. Now if you'll excuse me, T'Loris, I have an important call to take at eleven." he tried brushing her off as thoroughly as possible, only partly because he did in fact have a call waiting for his attention.

T'Loris, proving she wasn't a politician with several centuries worth of experience for nothing, quickly picked up on his wording. _"An 'important call'? More important than a Councilor? More important than discussing galaxy affecting policy changes!? Who could be so damned important to talk to?!"_

"Yes, Spirits yes, yes, and trust me when I say this: you should consider yourself lucky that you will never learn the answer to that. There are beings out there that hold more power than you or I could ever hope to achieve." he told her both bluntly and darkly, and she scrutinized his face to try and pick up on any dishonesty. When she found none, as he was being entirely truthful at the moment, she stared at him for a moment in slight shock.

"_Goddess…just what are you involved in?"_

"Like I said: you'll never find out, and should be very much so grateful for it."

Rather than wait for a response from his asari counterpart, he ended the call; letting out a sigh to calm his nerves.

_If she was anyone else I'd have had her executed on so many charges of conspiracy and premeditated murder that an elcor could contemplate the mysteries of life in the time it took to go through the names of all her victims, never mind trying to have me killed for no apparent reason; but because she's a Councilor, all I can really do is force her into being more cooperative. Although, considering the opportunity provided by all this, having her killed would do more harm than good in the long run; and thanks to my next caller, the long run is something I have no real choice but to plan for now. *siiigghhhhhh* Fucking politics, and fucking Reapers. Life was so much simpler when all I had to worry about was where the Hierarchy was going to send me for my next assignment. Well, no point in whining about it; I've got a job to do, and it just so happens to now include trying to keep the whole of galactic civilization from being wiped out by a fleet of genocidal synthetics whenever they decide to come back._

He paused to properly think over his current position in life, and had to keep himself from groaning in frustration at all of it.

_I wonder when I'll finally be allowed to retire? I certainly don't envy my successor when all this crap gets dropped on whoever they're going to be, but unfortunately for them, it's going to happen sooner or later; preferably sooner if you ask me._

He was brought out of his thoughts when the communications light on his desk started to blink, indicating the call he was waiting for. He didn't bother to straighten up because he already knew who it was, even if the caller ID only said 'The Commander' (which Herieus assumed was an inside joke of sorts considering the "man's" job in the still relatively new intelligence agency he headed).

He tapped accept and was greeted by the sight of a familiar barefaced 'turian' on the other end; the background appearing to be a sandy beach where he could see a few large and odd-looking four-legged crustaceans skittering around.

"_Ah, Councilor Campascus, always a pleasure."_

"Likewise, 'Major Meldos'; or do you prefer 'The Commander' now?" he replied with a smirk; mustering his usual bravado in front of his technical subordinate. _Like I can actually order him around. Hah, sure, right: me, a man with power only so long as my government says I have that power and who very nearly died not even three months ago were it not for having his help, in charge of him, something that's both alive and a machine at the same time and has been in existence for roughly a billion years, and also happens to be able to wipe out an entire fleet of our most advanced ships in less than an hour without even trying. *sigh* Why couldn't anyone else be forced to handle this instead of me?_

Premalon sighed and shook his head, whether in annoyance or amusement Herieus couldn't tell; fortunately unable to hear his internal conversation. _"Not my idea, I assure you. The others brought up the issue that I wouldn't be able to use 'my' name inside of Antrafell for more than a few decades at best before it became obvious that I was more than I let on, so they decided to come up with their own ideas. Cue 'Cerhn' and Valora getting involved in the naming process, and from now on my job title is going to be 'The Commander'. I know, very original."_ He added sarcastically in response to Herieus raising a questioning brow-plate. _"Naturally, for anyone that looks into it, I'll just 'die' and 'pass down' the job to whoever I 'pick' to replace me. Needless to say, that 'person' shall always be me in one form or another. But we're getting away from the purpose of this call. I was told by Valora you have a few questions for me?"_

_Heh. The Commander and The Shadow Broker: competitors for however long it takes for the other to be killed off. Well, not that I'm questioning who'll come out on top in that scenario, but the naming conventions are certainly similar in a way: both are vague enough to sound mysterious without sharing any actually important information aside from what the names imply, and at the same time they're easy enough for even a child to remember them._

"I did, although a few of them are more important than the others." Premalon raised a questioning brow-plate himself then and tilted his head curiously in a frighteningly close manner to a real turian, momentarily making Herieus forget just what he was talking to; and the other person gestured for him to elaborate. "How come you left the Citadel immediately after the bombing?"

The organic AI – a term that by all standards should be contradictory, but because of Reaper tech being involved, it was somehow accurate – stood at attention with his arms behind his back; a gesture shared by most species' militaries for some odd reason, particularly when around someone the soldier considers their superior. Herieus decided to accept it for what it was however, and likewise decided to ignore how oddly…_normal_, the person pretending to be both a turian and actually alive was acting. _"Had a couple of my people that needed immediate medical treatment for severe burns and internal hemorrhaging, and didn't trust any of the local surgeons or doctors to handle it in case they happen to be in the employ of someone outside of the hospital or clinic they work at, if you get my meaning." _Premalon said without stopping for a breath, and were it not for Herieus remembering the person on the other end didn't need to breathe, he would've been impressed by the display.

"Some of your people got hurt? How bad was it?"

"_It was easy enough to patch them up; in fact, they're already up and about. Most of the damage _–_ aside from the hemorrhaging at least _–_ was only surface level, so there weren't any issues with getting them healed." _He said with a genuine smile. _"While we're on that topic, I was wondering if you could fast-track the transfer of one of them over to Blackwatch so they can be directly under my command. As I understand it: the man in question passed the aptitude trials without any problems but signed up with the Navy when it came to deciding his branch. He still has two years to go before his deadline is up, but I'd prefer it to be official as soon as possible."_

"Easy enough. What's his name?"

"_Setherus Kalnen."_

Herieus inputted it in his database, and soon enough found a match that fit the description and noted the transfer had already been requested; it was simply being held up due to bureaucratic issues that always arose when changing branches. Fortunately, the system was designed to where a Councilor, General, or Admiral had the authority to bypass such issues if the need arose. "Annnd consider it done. Ensign Kalnen is now Lieutenant Kalnen of Blackwatch. Anyway, that brings me to my second question: where are you right now? I don't recognize the terrain or local wildlife; not much of a surprise considering how many worlds there are in the galaxy, but I'm still curious."

"_Ah, thanks for bringing it up. To tell you the truth, I wanted to discuss this planet myself." _Premalon stared off into the distance for a moment, and before Herieus could ask what he was doing a message popped up on his omni-tool. The Councilor opened the file and skimmed through its contents for a few seconds, and as he did so, the Reaper continued. _"What do you know of the system ILM-1977?"_

He couldn't think of anything he knew off the top of his head, so he just shrugged. "There are a lot of unnamed systems out there, so please, enlighten me."

Premalon nodded and explained further. _"It's a system on the border between the Traverse and the Terminus in the Sentry Omega cluster. Of the five planets, none of them are overly special really besides the third planet in the system; it happens to be an unclaimed garden world."_

_Say, wasn't there a bit of a stir a few years ago when a garden world was discovered in the area he's describing?_

Seemingly anticipating his question, Premalon continued. _"From what I can tell, no one's claimed it as of yet due to how unstable the Terminus is as a whole. Well, that used to be true anyway; let's just say that by now it's been claimed." _he trailed off suggestively.

Herieus took a moment to decipher the meaning behind Premalon's words, and had to keep his mandibles from dropping against his will when he did. "Wait, are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"_That depends: do you think I've laid claim to the planet and surrounding system? If so, then yes." _he answered nonchalantly, as if he wasn't proclaiming to now be the owner of an entire star system simply because no one else happened to own it at the time.

"Just how do you plan to make this public knowledge?! The wealthiest galactic corporations have extreme difficulty buying just an entire planet, and even then, it costs them a ludicrous amount of credits! And you want to just take control of a system, and one with a first tier garden world on top of that!?" Herieus almost yelled, and Premalon waited for him to finish his rant before he responded.

"_I understand something like this isn't exactly easy to do were I carrying it out through the official channels; but I never said I intended to do that, now did I?" _Premalon's mandibles spread in an evil smirk, and Herieus allowed himself a moment to recover from the shock and sheer outrage of any singular person just up and taking over an entire system.

When he did finally recover, he replayed the Reaper's words in his head to ensure he hadn't misheard him. "What exactly do you mean by that?" he asked with narrowed eyes.

"_Simple: as of tomorrow, as far as any galactic star charts that have been connected to the extranet in the past two months and at any point in the future are concerned, ILM-1977 and the Sentry Omega cluster will simply reappear on the edge of explored space; and the original will, for all intents and purposes, disappear entirely. If anyone tries accessing it, it will be labeled as an unexplored system; and I don't think I need to tell you how 'dangerous' an unexplored system can be, now do I?" _he finished with yet another unsettling smirk.

Herieus once more felt the sudden urge to drop his mandibles in shock, but he quickly buried it beneath a layer of forced calm. "You know it isn't that easy, correct? Just because you remove all digital signs of it existing, that doesn't mean people themselves won't remember it." he reasoned, deciding to just accept that the semi-living AI can and will be getting a free garden world out of this conversation.

"_I know, I know; but after a decade or two, how many people do you think will remember just another barely explored system that nobody wanted to settle on? Even the Terminus warlords don't care what happens to it according to my information; what's the point of raiding an empty world, and why settle it when your rivals can swoop in and take over in an instant? Besides, as I said: the exit relay will be labeled as unexplored in every navigation system that even goes near the extranet for the next few millennia or so, making anyone that tries using it a criminal by default. And last I checked, no one will think twice about what might've happened to a 'criminal' that 'disappeared' after going through an unexplored relay." _Premalon replied, releasing a dark chuckle at the end.

"Let me reiterate: it won't be that easy. People tend to notice an entire system moving somewhere else in the galaxy."

"_And, once more, as I said: we already have plans to handle it. Unless someone comes here with an entire fleet, the Retribution has the system locked down; and with every ship that does come here, unless there's no other choice, they'll become part of our own fleet, whether they're civilian freighters, pirate or mercenary corvettes and frigates, or even Council warships, it makes no difference." _At the mention of the last one, Herieus sent the best warning glare he could muster at Premalon. The Reaper noticed and just shrugged in response; otherwise ignoring it. _"I suggest you find a way to label the system as off-limits if you don't want Hierarchy assets to end up being 'repurposed'. If it makes you feel better, I'll send a few probes out to locate a suitable system or two to make up for the lost territory, and sell the information to the Citadel Exploration Fleet after making sure nothing out of the ordinary is found there. Worse comes to worse, I'll just turn off the relay on the other end; well, that's the plan anyway. Considering how old the Reaper codes we have are, I can't give any promises. The fallback plan is to just send an asteroid into the offending relay so that it wipes out whatever unpleasantness is nearby."_

Herieus spent a solid ten seconds trying to find another argument for why it was a bad idea, but he eventually gave up with a sigh. "Fine…fine…you can have the damn system for all I care. Not like we were getting any use out of it…" he grumbled the latter sentence.

"_Glad you're seeing it from my perspective, Councilor." _Premalon told him with another damned smirk. _"Anyway, that was all I wanted to get from this. So, did you have any other questions for me?"_

The turian shook his head to clear his thoughts, and refocused on what he wanted to ask at the start of all this. "Yes, I did. Well, they're less questions and more me just informing you about policy changes I intend to make now that T'Loris is 'allied' with me, but I could still use your input."

"_Ah, that; Valora told me about your 'arrangement' with the asari Councilor when we picked her up. So, what are you planning?"_

This time he was the one to smirk; except where Premalon's was practically malevolent in nature, Herieus' was downright predatory. "I have a few ideas…"

* * *

_**1**__**st**__** month, 6**__**th**__** day, 1028 CE, 14:09 GST, on the surface of the third planet, ILM-1977.**_

"Ahhh, now this is what I'm talking about! A calm beach, pleasant breeze, and plenty of sun!" Valora said while laying on the warm sand, having stripped down to nothing except her underwear so as to enjoy the planet's tropical climate.

"Glad you're so happy about it, Handless, considering we still have another three days before the night cycle begins locally. It's too damn wet though!" Setherus added his two credits from his own spot leaning against one of the native trees.

"Oh, you overgrown birds just don't like water in general." He glared in annoyance at her in response to the racial slur, which Valora happily ignored. "I've been to Palaven once, and once was enough. How the hell can you actually enjoy that oven you call a planet?!"

"Simple: it's called biology. If you weren't so busy trying to get into the pants of the Councilor or every other sentient you come across, you might've learned that by now." Setherus replied with a smirk, and was rewarded with a flabbergasted Valora. "What? You really should think twice before leaving messages between you and 'Herieus' on there for the whole galaxy to see. Honestly, with security like that, a child could've broken into your omni-tool!"

Valora slowly clenched her jaw shut and sent a glare of her own at the smug turian. "You've been digging through my 'tool while I was asleep." It wasn't a question.

"Well yeah; what else would I do in my spare time? Not like I need to sleep myself anymore, and you were kind enough to leave it out in the open for me to take a look." He responded, sounding far too pleased with himself at admitting to hacking into someone's omni-tool with next to no effort.

She didn't catch Valora's comeback as a voice spoke in her head.

_Ocean, we're about to arrive. Have you done the necessary research by now? _Hystuss asked her through their connection.

_Yeah, I have; got most of the mannerisms down by now, just need to make sure I don't do anything inappropriate considering you'll be taking the lead. I swear, some of the alien cultures that exist out there are weird. Well, weirder than the 'normal' ones anyway. _She replied, and he hummed – the mental equivalent of a shrug – and ended the connection.

"While this is certainly entertaining to watch, I'm afraid I'll have to leave you two behind for now so me and Hystuss can get to work establishing ourselves in the Terminus proper." Ocean's body spoke up, interrupting the squabbling pair.

They each blinked in surprise, not saying anything for a moment, only for Setherus to nod in understanding. "When should we expect you back?"

"We'll stop in every few hours at least, every day at most, so no worries. I'm more concerned about leaving the five of you here on your own."

That answer in turn prompted another question from the young turian. "I take it Sal made it back home to Palaven then? Until I get a proper hang of how to work this thing outside the simulations," no one commented on that 'thing' being his own body, "I'd prefer to avoid going home if at all possible; even though it means she's going to have to explain how my 'current posting' meant I wasn't able to spend all of her furlough with her."

"Got confirmation three hours ago: her shuttle landed on the Citadel and she immediately boarded the passenger ship we booked for her return home. Any other questions, or do you want to skip straight to the part where we start sending spare agents – of which the current number available happens to be in the single digits, I might add – to keep an eye on a 15 year-old girl with what effectively amounts to a solid month's worth of combat experience in grueling, non-stop, unwinnable scenarios?" He looked like he wanted to argue, but apparently thought better of it. "Don't worry; I'm sure she can handle herself." Ocean added gently when she noticed the worry coming off of Setherus, making him relax slightly.

"Are you sure I can't go with? I mean it's Omega for Athame's sake! That place is like one big never-ending party for me!" the asari of the trio whined, even pouting a little. _Wow. She's getting good at those varren puppy eyes of hers. Pity for her I'm immune to cute…mostly….._

"Maybe next time, Valora." The woman in question pouted even further, making Setherus chuckle at her misfortune, Valora growling like a turian in response and catching him off-guard; and Ocean shook her head in amusement at their antics. "Oh and before I forget: you still need to go through the combat training scenarios on Retribution if you don't want to be left behind by the others. Hystuss and I already talked about it and agreed to let Lavaeus be in charge of you for that; at least until he's sent back to his own squad so they can begin their assignment a couple days from now, in which case Setherus will take over if you still aren't at an appropriate level."

Valora groaned and Setherus grinned evilly; the latter no doubt imagining the 'fun' he could inflict on the former and get away with during the simulated battles.

When after a moment passed and neither of them asked her anything else, she stood still and disconnected from the asari body she'd grown accustomed to for the past several months.

After she left and Orchestra had taken control of the body, its features became completely neutral to an unnatural extent; and the two people still present on the beach gave it sideways glances as it just stood there.

Seeing as it was clear the infiltrator wasn't going anywhere, Valora spoke up. "I still think it's freaky when she does that. And those eyes…" she shivered involuntarily, "I mean I know it's supposed to be dead and all, but I've never seen anything so…soulless before."

"Agreed. At least I'm limited to one, but her and Hystuss? It's just plain disturbing how easy they can shift from body to body; never mind what they look like when neither of the two are using them." Setherus said, eyeing the more-or-less empty body in front of them warily.

When she received the recording of their conversation later that day, Ocean decided to ignore both comments; although it did manage to upset her somewhat that they refused to say it to her face. Well, her asari one that is.

* * *

_**1**__**st**__** month, 6**__**th**__** day, 1028 CE, 15:89 GST, Gunz For Hire Mercenary Brokerage Center, Tuhi District, Omega.**_

Corlak Gar'berah was having a rather good day so far, all things considered. This morning he received word that the Warlord of Omega himself, Rordak Dakar, wanted to see him about hiring unaffiliated mercenaries to act as the krogan's personal guard so as to ensure only he held their loyalty; or more accurately, paid their salaries. Being the sole ruler of Omega, even if he'd only been there for slightly more than a year by now, meant he needed the appropriate mercenary guard like all of his predecessors.

Apparently, when Dakar conquered his way to the throne by either killing most of his rivals or making those few he didn't lieutenants in his criminal empire, he noticed Corlak's little mercenary agency for one reason or another. That of course meant that the batarian's business was booming ever since Dakar first started hiring the most expensive freelancers he had in the books to form the backbone of his private army. Former asari Commandos looking for 'entertainment' via bloodshed, krogan Battlemasters from the Rebellions trying to regain some odd form of 'honor' in mercenary work – something Corlak always found amusing, even if he wasn't stupid enough to say it to the humpback's faces – retired turian Blackwatch members trying to escape the laws of Council space, who were in almost as high a demand as the other two mercenary types, and even a few (somehow) retired members of his own kind's Special Intervention Unit; all were signed on with Dakar via semi-permanent contracts that saw them become some of the wealthiest mercs on-station, and that was before taking into account all the bonuses and discounts provided to men and women directly employed by the Warlord.

What made his visit a few hours ago special however, was that the relatively young krogan crime lord finally made it official: Gunz For Hire – he'd blame his former business partner for the name if the krogan ancient hadn't decided to revert to being a mercenary himself, leaving him as the sole owner; who kept it out of nostalgia – was to be the only mercenary agency employed by the new regime for the foreseeable future.

Ever since the announcement, he'd been almost gleefully accepting visits and calls from everyone who was anyone in the Terminus practically demanding some of his 'high quality mercenaries'. The ass-kissing served to stroke his admittedly inflated pride, and the nigh endless credits served to fill up his similarly inflated bank account to levels he had only dreamt of before now.

Yes, today was a good day indeed.

His musings were interrupted when the sensor telling him when people entered his front door went off, and he gestured to the dozen mercs he employed for his own protection to look imposing for his potential customers. The fact it also allowed them to have numerous guns in hand and ready to be fired in case the clientele got 'rowdy' was just a happy coincidence. Well, mostly. This was Omega after all, not the Citadel; and Corlak learned early on in his career that making a show of force to someone potentially looking to hire mercs from you gave them a good sampling of the 'product' being offered, and in the case of krogan, batarians, and even a few turians, tended to earn some small measure of respect. Everyone else? Having an intimidation factor was always a plus as far as he was concerned.

A moment or two after the last of his guards came to attention, the second door leading into his business opened, and a pair of batarians walked through; a man and woman by the armor shape and difference in height. As soon as they came in they took off their helmets and breathed deeply for several seconds; not that he could blame them considering the crap that passed for air on most of the station.

The man was even more muscular than the average batarian, his expensive looking grey and orange armor barely doing anything to hide that fact, and Corlok felt self-conscious about his own steadily growing belly thanks to the various delicacies he'd been dining on for the past year. The woman on the other hand was wearing – if his trained eyes were seeing right – what had to have been one of the finest suits of armor he'd ever seen; most likely one of asari make judging by the form-fitting curvature and near seamless design. In spite of its fragile appearance, he could tell it was as tough, if not tougher than the man's heavy armor, even if the bright blue and purple was anything but a practical color scheme regardless of where it was worn. _Typical female and their fascination with flashy colors. Well, at least it isn't as bad as some of the idiots I've had to deal with that paint theirs neon pink or green. At that point I'd probably be doing the galaxy a favor by putting a target on their chest plates; not that anyone shooting at them would need the extra help._

While he was examining their physical appearance, they were undoubtedly doing the same to his security; at least if the quick glance around from the man and subtle smirk from the woman were anything to go by. The former gave an approving nod before walking up to Corlak's desk and sitting on one of the provided chairs, the latter following suit; both of them sensibly deciding to put their helmets in their lap rather than leave them on the shelf by the door intended for such a purpose. _Smart move. I wouldn't trust me not to take advantage of them being so exposed either._

Corlak shifted his expression into a well-practiced mask of neutrality; making sure not to tilt his head in either direction in case the pair followed the practices of Khar'shan nobles. He personally found it annoying thanks to never having stepped foot on that cesspit of a planet, but understood the necessity of it in regard to those of his kind that had. "How may I be of service? Looking to hire a security company," he decided to ignore the twitch in the male's lips at the polite term for mercenary corporations, "for various services? Depending on the company, I'm sure they'd be willing to do anything you require in whatever…line of work you happen to engage in." he trailed off, trying to dig for information so he could point them to the proper merc group. He was good at his job for a reason, and that wasn't him boasting.

"Perhaps at a later date. No, I'd like to register a new 'company' with your office. Preferably one that can also be authorized in Citadel space." the male said, tilting his head to the right ever-so-slightly in a subtle display of superiority.

_Ah. So they do follow the noble's practices. *sigh* Wonderful. _He thought sarcastically, but did lean his head to the left slightly in turn in a sign of accepting the other man's dominance. Stroking a customer's pride tended to result in more credits sent his direction after all, even if he felt disgusted at lowering himself in such a way.

"That can be arranged; however, I feel the need to mention that the second item will be rather…expensive. Are you sure you wouldn't prefer to form an unauthorized company first so you can acquire the necessary funds?"

"Do we look like people to which money is an issue?" the man asked with a sneer, only for the woman to tap his shoulder. They looked at each other for a moment and apparently shared a silent conversation with their eyes, as when the man turned back around he seemed to be more…_relaxed,_ for lack of a better word; even going so far as to shift his head to a neutral position similar to how Corlak himself first started.

"No. No I don't suppose you do." The mercenary broker replied, trying to keep from narrowing his lower eyes, although he gladly relaxed his posture as well.

"Good. I assume you'll need a name for the 'company'?"

"That is something required, yes; and while we're on the topic of names, I will need yours as well."

The pair shared another look and nodded a moment later, and the male once more spoke for them both. "The name for our group will be-"

* * *

_**1**__**st**__** month, 14**__**th**__** day, 9:02 GST, ?**_

"_-as been made official: after weeks of internal debate, the Council has decided to repeal the Treaty of Farixen. This is coming amidst a series of sweeping policy changes that have caught many off-guard, including but not limited to: further funding for the Citadel Defense Fleet, plans for the construction of a series of super-dreadnaughts similar to the Republic's Ascension Project proposed by the Hierarchy to counter vessels such as the now infamous Leviathan of Dis should more ships of its class _– _and maybe even the Leviathan itself _–_ be found in the hands of pirates or rogue states, and the responsibility for patrolling Citadel space being more evenly divided between the three Council races. While the Turian Hierarchy will still be the vast majority, the Asari Republics and Salarian Union will now have to, at minimum, patrol their star systems using their own fleets. Although some detractors claim this move allows the militaristic Hierarchy to consolidate power while weakening the other two races, we here at Citadel News Network have been assured by a Council spokesperson that it is merely intended to release more Hierarchy vessels for combatting the numerous pirate fleets of the Terminus. In other news: Elanus Risk Control Services has announced that it is now open to investment outside of its home offices on Palaven. Previously, the small but well-respected turian security firm was limited to investment solely from private financiers living on the turian home world whose identities even now remain undisclosed to the public; however, unsubstantiated rumors abound of them being anyone from volus industry magnates, powerful asari CEO's that have worked their way up the turian corporate ladder after moving to Palaven, to even Hierarchy Generals and Primarchs looking into ways to improve their military's ability to handle unusual combat situations. According to an ERCS representative, this change in company policy was brought on by the new majority shareholder; who, like ERCS's Board of Directors and financial backers, continues to remain anonymous. More on these stories after the break. I'm-" _She switched it off and tiredly squeezed the bridge of her nose.

_Since when have those puppets at CNN learned something regarding the Council's politics before I have!? Me, the most well-informed information broker in the galaxy! Don't I have half of those fools on my payroll in one form or another?! *sigh* Looks like I need to invest in some more 'reliable' reporters during the next scheduled meeting with the shareholders that own CNN's parent company. Now that I think about it, that move from ERCS was unexpected at this point it time. If I remember correctly: there were plans from a few financiers to open it up to foreign investment, but by all estimates that shouldn't have happened for another decade at least, maybe longer. Aside from that…something happened among the Council that I wasn't informed of before it even began, and that worries me._

As if brought on by her line of thought, a blinking communications light caught her eye. Making sure her voice scrambler was active, she only answered it after seeing who it was. _Speak of the Ardat-Yakshi and she shall appear._

"Yes, Councilor T'Loris? What is it you require?" she asked rhetorically; already having a good idea thanks to reports she'd gone over beforehand mentioning multiple visits and calls between the Councilor and her turian counterpart.

"_I'm not calling to play games. I need to speak to my sister, not the 'Shadow Broker'." _Faalra said irritably, and it took a moment for the words to register in her mind; a stunned silence being her only response for a few seconds.

"I assume you're in a clean area?"

"_Of course: my office. Just had it checked less than an hour ago."_

She decided not to mention the electronic listening device she'd had the people that checked for such things install in the Councilor's holomonitor decades ago that happened to still be there, nor did she mention the fact that Faalra's head technician was in her employ.

"Very well…" she shut off the voice scrambler and made sure the call wasn't recorded from this point onward, "What's causing you enough problems that you need to get in touch with me _personally_, Faalra?" she asked in a serious tone. While they weren't as close as they used to be before she first started the Broker network from the remnants of the now disbanded and conveniently forgotten Republics Intelligence Bureau after the Rebellions ended, they still kept in touch whenever they could; she would even occasionally give her younger sister beneficial information free of charge when the mood hit her.

"_I…may have made a mistake two months ago regarding Campascus that's put me in an unfortunate position." _Faalra admitted; whether in shame or embarrassment, she couldn't tell.

It took her a moment to recall what happened two months back, and when she did, it didn't take her long to match the information with what her sibling was calling about; possibly giving her an answer to a question that had so far proven difficult to uncover. "Wait: that was you? You were the one to organize the attempt on that insufferable, hormone driven turian?"

She didn't receive a response for several seconds, before Faalra managed to find her voice. _"Yes." _she admitted, sounding like it physically pained her to do so.

"By the damn Goddess; what were you thinking, sister?! That one failed attempt set back years of manipulating and blackmailing the Primarchs into being disenfranchised with Campascus to the point of making sure someone like him never got the office again! At the very least, you could've succeeded in the murder! Even that would've been better than the pile of varren shit I was forced to deal with because of it! The Hierarchy is preparing for war now, Faalra; did you know that!? There's talk among the Primarchs of a full-scale invasion of the Terminus and Hegemony space to 'finally get rid of the scum' on their borders thanks to where those krogan mercenaries you used came from! I've been spending the past two months doing what I can to keep those war-hungry turians from following through on that talk!" she tried to keep from screaming; unintentionally venting months worth of pent-up frustration at the other asari.

While she didn't tell Faalra this, the reason for why the Hegemony was included in those war plans was due to the numerous diplomatic issues the 'independent slavers' employed by their government brought up; some real, some fabricated by one side or the other, but in the end, the effect was the same. She'd been around since the final years of the Rachni Wars, was born during them in fact, never mind her years of fighting in the conflict immediately following it that introduced the turians onto the galactic stage, and as such she kept track of the more important incidents whenever they arose; not counting the basic disgust most turians had for the idea of slavery being allowed to exist across an entire species' territory because of something as flimsy as 'cultural heritage'.

The oldest reason she could remember was the still lingering hatred from when the Rebellions ended centuries ago and everything started to settle down: multiple turian colonies were discovered ransacked by 'roving krogan war bands' that 'miraculously escaped detection' up to that point, only for a massive spike in turian slaves on Khar'shan to reveal the treachery. Who got blamed for it? Rogue, and well-equipped, Terminus pirates of course. Did the Hegemony give up their newly minted slaves? Of course not. That marked the first and so far only time a turian fleet was positioned above the batarian home world and threatening to bombard it; and the Hegemony naturally called on aid from the rest of the Council as they were, technically, a member-state being threatened with invasion by another member-state. If it wasn't for months of negotiations from every other major galactic power that was tired of centuries of non-stop warfare claiming billions, if not trillions, of lives, she was sure the galaxy would've continued to burn for decades longer thanks to the ensuing conflict. The end result was the Hierarchy didn't turn Khar'shan into a death world, consequently starting another war considering many of the Terminus savages called the planet home; and severe economic sanctions were placed on the Hegemony that made everything manufactured in batarian territory cost nearly twice as much for anyone inside of Citadel space, which had the unintended side effect of making the Hegemony's economy more reliant on goods sold in the Terminus.

After that, it was repeated cases of turian shipping in the following centuries of rebuilding their colonies from the destruction brought on by the war that were constantly being raided by those same 'pirates', and a subsequent boom in expansion on the part of the Hegemony's own colonial efforts. Following that 'minor' scandal that resulted in the turians being given their seat on the Council to make up for it – the crap they put in the codex about it being because of the 'Hierarchy's valiant effort and sacrifice in fighting off the krogan horde' always amused her – and even more sanctions placed on the Hegemony, there were numberless other smaller events over the next century that, if anything, kept her busy and well paid as more and more political maneuvering was required to keep the two galactic powers from clashing head-on.

Then there was a more recent incident just over two years ago regarding a Hierarchy frigate being captured and held by the Hegemony because of a successful liberation mission of abducted turian colonists on the part of the former, from one of latter's slave processing stations near their borders; and that diplomatic clusterfuck once more nearly resulted in war breaking out.

And then of course there were the issues two months ago during the 'Leviathan Hunt', as one of her more poetic agents termed it, regarding when the Hierarchy sent an entire fleet into Hegemony space to, officially anyway, "subdue a possible gathering of pirate vessels", which nonetheless managed to stoke the old hatred between the two governmental entities. Naturally, the Hegemony 'politely' requested the Hierarchy got out of their 'sovereign' territory as soon as possible so they could conduct a thorough search of their own for the missing heavy cruiser; those things were anything but cheap, and governments tended to notice when one went missing, or in the case of the Hegemony, went missing without their direct permission. Why send an old vessel to the scrapyards when it can still be used by state-sponsored slave runners?

She knew the real reason behind the frankly ridiculous placement of tonnage in the Hades Gamma Cluster though, and the unsettling betrayal from one of her most loyal agents in the shape of the then Captain Primus Meldos seemingly switching allegiances and working for a new and as yet unknown faction only served to increase her paranoia; not aided by the technological impossibility that was that Premalon being – who had been mysteriously absent from her network's eyes since then; her agents in the Hierarchy not picking up anything regarding the creature's whereabouts – somehow tracing her signal down without setting off any alerts of a system breach taking place, in spite of her having multiple cutting-edge and even a few recovered prothean security programs installed and activated on her personal server at all times.

Throughout all of these political nightmares, she'd been growing her information network and establishing long-lasting connections across thousands of worlds, and to say she was the most informed person alive at this point in time wasn't boasting on her part. It was a simple statement of fact.

She released a frustrated sigh in the silence that followed her outburst, and spoke up. "My apologies, Faalra; I've been rather stressed as of late. If you could explain to me your situation, I'll see what I can do to help." she said calmly; as much for herself as her sister.

"_I…Athame, I didn't know what you did was truly that complicated. If true, this news is troubling. There are still a number of Republic colonies bordering the Terminus recovering from the disastrous blow to our population caused by the last two galactic conflicts; they would be among the first to fall if the turians drag us into another one with the Terminus warlords and the batarians."_

"Precisely. That, however, can wait. For now, tell me everything about just what you planned to accomplish with Campascus' death, and what he wanted from you in exchange for you keeping your head after he found out you were behind it; that is, besides letting whatever the Hierarchy wants passed to go through as galactic law." Faalra stuttered and tried to ask how she knew, but she cut her sibling off with the answer before the Councilor could even finish the sentence. "Oh please; when combined with what you've told me so far, it was obvious he found out about your involvement from all of these recent changes to Council policy being made that the Union would never go along with under normal circumstances. And if they aren't the ones pushing for this to happen, that leaves only a single possibility as to how it is. Would I be correct to assume that Councilor Bezom is understandably upset with your perceived betrayal of the unofficial balance of power maintained by our two governments?"

This time Faalra was the one to sigh, and the Broker felt some measure of satisfaction in knowing she wasn't the only one the universe had given a bad hand of Five Families to lately. _"Upset would be an understatement: the old salarian was seething the last time I met with him, and unless my issue gets resolved or I resign from office, I won't have any choice but to go along with whatever that damn turian wants me to."_

"And considering you still have another two centuries worth of being Councilor left, the second option wouldn't be very appealing either. Hmm, you've certainly put yourself in quite the situation, that's for sure. Now then: the details."

And so Faalra told her all she knew regarding the sloppy attempt to kill Councilor Campascus, and it was moments like these that the Broker felt more annoyance than anything else at how her sibling tried to emulate her own skills at the darker side of galactic politics. Regardless of the old Matron's mistakes, it was her job both as the elder sister and Matriarch of the two of them to handle it to the best of her abilities. Family, even when they caused foolish and easily avoidable problems, was still family, and she would watch over hers as long as she lived; no matter the headaches it could and would cause her now or in the future.

* * *

**Would be longer, but I had to cut the final segment and instead label it as chapter 21 when it became 5k words on its own before I was even finished (and I'm still not). In related, and coincidentally, good news, expect the next chapter to be posted in a week or less!**

**Feel pretty good about this chapter overall. It covers all I wanted it to, gives us quite a bit of perspective outside the relative bubble most of the cast lives in, and sets the stage for things to come. A lot has been happening behind the scenes that we haven't been shown thanks to the character perspectives thus far, and the fact that the galaxy isn't already at war is a testament to those trying their best to keep the peace; but for how long this state of affairs will last is anyone's guess. Changes are coming to the ME-verse folks, and I've been waiting for far too long to write them. That, however, will be covered in more detail in the following chapters.**

**Right, so about the wait…I'm deeply sorry, and I have no real excuse. I spent well over a month doing nothing but reading stories on the site and I neglected writing as a result. No promises that it won't happen again in the future, and if it does, I'll try to keep it from lasting as long as it did this time.**

***clears throat to try and change the subject* Anywho, as a side note: if you don't know what planet Premalon 'claimed' even after all the hints dropped here (and the occasional flashing neon signs mixed with loudspeakers), then I don't know what to tell you. I mean it should be preettttyyyy darn obvious by now. Right? *he waits for a response, but is mildly concerned when there isn't one* Right?!**

**Alrighty then, all that other stuff out of the way, this was the finale of Awakening! I can't wait to start on the next arc, because that's where ME as we all know it decides to go flying off the rails in spectacular fashion; but before that happens, we still have a few tweener chapters (I have no idea what else to call them) to go through that vaguely covers what took place between now and the start of the next arc: The Nightfall Wars. The name should imply the gist of what it's going to cover considering the setup so far. **

**Well, this has finally been posted and my imagination is working in overdrive and giving me plenty of ideas to play with. If you wish to aid it in giving me ideas, please review! That said, I hope you enjoyed and I'll see you next time!**


	21. Chapter 21

*****The Broken Reaper*****

**Chapter 21: Time's Unending March: Business, but not Quite Usual**

* * *

**AN: You know the drill. Reviews first, thoughts on the chapter second.**

**Tom712: While yes, they (as in we) won't be showing up for a while, who said anything about that not being a possibility? This is fanfiction; anything can, and oftentimes will, happen! So keep on dreaming my friend, because someday it might come true! (I apologize for the cheesy motivational line; but yeah, it could definitely happen at some point in the future, so don't give up your hope quite yet.)**

**Pteaset: Why thank you very much! Always nice to know someone's more-or-less patiently waiting on me to update; gives me the proper motivation to keep from procrastinating and to actually write for this whenever I can.**

**Blaze1992: Chapter 19 review: Are you talking about after they woke up? Because if so, they had…'other' things on their minds at the time. Chapter 20 review: Soon, my bloodthirsty friend, soon. *cue evil grin as he reads over the plot notes for the next arc***

**Prometheus-777: You know, I've written your name so many times by now that the auto suggest brings it up after the first three letters. Anyway, while at the time of writing this I haven't actually made your response yet, I have no doubt how long it will end up being when I do, so yeah. Expect it soon after this is posted. [Covered in a PM]**

**This chapter's going to be a little different than most. Now part of that is because originally it was meant to be the final segment of the previous chapter, but my muse decided to look at that idea, scoff, laugh, and completely ignore it. This happens to be the result. The other reason is that while it may not seem like much at first glance, the connections made with the OC's shown here will last for a loooonnnnggg time to come. If my current plans stay in effect, the next chapter won't be as…well, dragged out as this one, so bear with me guys.**

* * *

**1****st**** month, 19****th**** day, 1028 CE, early morning locally, Cipritine, Palaven, inside the headquarters of Trinar Advanced Technologies Research Institute, a division of Elanus Risk Control Services.**

He was patiently waiting in the reception area along with the other potential investors; each of the dozen various noteworthies there to see if the research projects designed and tested by TATRI might be worth outside funding; it was only due to the recent changes in policy from ERCS that they were even allowed the opportunity to see what went on inside the research institute. Personally, he felt like his superiors were overreacting; but nonetheless, he made sure to note everyone present just in case. _CEO and founder of Almena Industries, Ri'nesy Almena, headquarters on Illium; specializes in advanced haptic interface design and omni-tool combat programs. President of Renna Technologies, Vann'Maenna vas Rannoch, headquarters on Rannoch; specializes in VI and AI research and self-improving security software. Acting CEO and heir of Elkoss Combine, Junlan Elkoss, no true headquarters outside of their personal heavy cruiser as the Elkoss family refuses to settle on any world to avoid being taxed by any government outside of the Council as a whole rather than its individual member-states; specializes in the efficient and low-cost manufacturing of too many things to keep track of, ranging from firearms to aircars…_

He continued to compile the mental list of names and specialties of every notable person that shared the room with him; noticing a pattern forming of how every one of them appeared to be either remarkably young and successful business owners by their species' standards, or in line to become the next head of their respective corporations. He himself was, technically speaking, in the first category, if not for what his real 'job' and 'company' was.

Before the wait could become long enough to be annoying to all the entrepreneurs and soon-to-be or current corporate leaders gathered, an admittedly eye-catching turian woman with glistening plates almost the color of silver and light brown scales, wearing what he assumed to be the height of fashion on Palaven – a multilayered and expensive looking light grey dress that billowed out on the ends of its arm-length sleeves like a blooming flower – walked in carrying an actual dataslate for some odd reason, not its streamlined and more capable successor, the datapad. The former had long since became obsolete ever since the cost of omni-tool's reduced to the point the average citizenry could afford them, and because of this, the latter only remained in use thanks to the metal frame surrounding the screen being capable of holding dozens of omni-tool's worth of data simply by virtue of being larger than the wrist-mounted personal computer, whereas the dataslate ran off of non-eezo based tech and couldn't hold anywhere near as much information as a result.

She looked up from the archaic device and gave what passed for a winning smile from a turian. "I believe I speak for TATRI, and even our friends in ERCS, when I say we are glad all of you decided to come here today! My name is Gabitia Fimion, and I'll be your guide through our labs, testing grounds, and firing ranges." she said cheerfully, and he had to keep from snorting at how even turian labs have ways for their employees to shoot guns and be paid for it. Others in his group weren't as held-back by social norms as he was and snorted anyway, making the guide's mandibles twitch in what he believed was a slight frown, however she recovered before anyone else could notice and gestured towards the door she entered from. "If you could follow me, we can go through security to remove any unauthorized eezo-based devices; and after that, go on with the tour!"

"Why would we need to remove only the eezo-based ones? Why not other types? Is this to keep us from recording what we see, and if so, wouldn't there be no point to it when there are two salarians coming with?" asked Almena with a gesture to him and another of his kind: some unremarkable CEO from the Traverse by name of Tebin Daeu that owned a recently founded company that manufactured GARDIAN laser arrays for use in colony defense on frontier worlds.

A few people in the audience began muttering in agreement with the asari's sentiment; omni-tool's were her field of expertise after all, and their construction was impossible without using the rare element, so of course she'd want to know why the group couldn't bring theirs with.

The guide didn't look phased by the question, and happily provided an answer. "You are correct, Miss Almena; we aren't doing this to keep any of you from recording what we're about to show you. In fact, I've been authorized to send recordings of the devices being prototyped here while they're in operation should any of you wish; however, the technical details are obviously restricted and will remain that way until the board says otherwise. No, the reason why eezo-based devices need to be left behind for the duration of the tour is because some of the prototypes are still in the testing phase and may not function properly around sufficient quantities of element zero; with unpredictable results."

_Well, that explains the dataslate at least. Those things were made back when eezo was still considered too valuable to 'waste' in a handheld device that wasn't an omni-tool._

Almena shifted her feet nervously and tried not to look unsettled when she asked her next question. "What about biotics?"

"In that respect I'm glad to say there isn't enough eezo in a biotic's nervous system to warrant a reaction from any of the projects." Fimion provided, still speaking like a stereotypical tour guide that's all-too-happy to answer questions they get asked. "Does anyone else wish to express further concerns?" When no one spoke up, she nodded and started to walk back through the door. "Then follow me, please."

After a moment of indecision, the group did as she asked and went through the door; it wide enough for four salarians to stand side-by-side and still have room to move around comfortably. They reached the security checkpoint before long, and as he was currently at the front of the crowd, he had already taken his omni-tool off and placed it in a tray provided by one of the turian security guards.

"That the only thing you have on you?" the guard asked.

"It is." he replied honestly. _Like Almena said: it's not as if I need an omni-tool in the first place to remember every detail about this little exposition._

The guard nodded and handed off the tray to a second guard who put it in a security locker, and then proceeded to gesture to a commonplace scanning booth built into the checkpoint. "If you could step inside and stand on the designated pad, sir. This won't take too long."

He followed the guard's instructions and, after a quick scan just as the turian promised, walked out the other end without issue. This procedure repeated for the other twelve people, not counting the guide, and they continued on when the final person came out the other side of the booth; following the energetic alien as she obviously tried to convince them why investing in the company employing her was a good idea. "-are on the cutting-edge of technology advancement in Hierarchy space, and while new and impressive weapons are obviously where most of our research goes to, I'm sure that you'll be impressed even by our non-military oriented projects. I hope that when this tour is finished, it will be enough to convince each of you to invest in TATRI!" she finished cheerily, either oblivious or ignoring the fact that most of the group tuned her out after the first minute of the sales pitch.

As if planned ahead of time, and he held no doubts that it was, her final words coincided with them arriving at the elevator heading into the facility proper: it wasn't anything special as far as he could tell, especially when compared with the massive elevator door next to it that looked like it was designed for moving tanks rather than people. "And here we are! In accordance with company regulations, I am required to remind each of you not to touch or approach any of the projects throughout the tour unless otherwise indicated by on-site personnel; the active ones especially, as they can be…unpleasant to clean up afterwards." For the first time since he met the woman, she sounded dead serious; all traces of friendliness gone from her voice and replaced by hard steel. "If you do not wish to continue, you may still leave; however, I have been ordered to inform you that this will be your only chance to see what is being developed here. For those of you that do decide to continue, ERCS management wishes to remind you of the waiver and non-disclosure agreement you signed beforehand stating we are not responsible for any malfunctions in the projects that may occur during the tour."

While that little 'reminder' made a few of his 'fellow' businesspeople visibly pale, it only served to increase his curiosity. _What have they got you people working on down below I wonder? ERCS isn't known for funding much in the way of research on experimental weapons or computer tech; they've always focused more on the security aspect of their corporation. All this is certainly proving to be…irregular, for them._

He fought down a frown at not already knowing what was going on inside the research institute, never mind its parent company; and he was starting to understand precisely why the Dalatrass' had ordered the STG to look into the goings-on of the company.

"No one's backing out then?" He was brought out of his thoughts by the still deadly serious turian, and found himself missing her more jovial mood from earlier. As if on cue, she smiled a pleased smile at them and clapped her hands together; catching a few in the group by surprise with the sudden noise. "Great!" she exclaimed before going into the waiting elevator and likewise waiting for them to join her.

He raised a brow at the sharp shift in personality, but continued to be the one in front anyway; the others following behind him warily like a bunch of scared children.

His mask of business professionalism almost fell into a fit of laughter when he imagined the twelve millionaires, billionaires, and in the case of the volus, trillionaires around him as precisely that: children. The fact that the heir to the Elkoss corporate empire – someone who'd likely grown up with a larger monthly allowance than most people in the galaxy earned throughout their entire lives – happened to be one of the currently fidgeting and nervous business moguls in front of him only made it all the more amusing for the STG agent playing businessman.

When everyone piled into the smaller of the two elevators, its doors shut and they began heading downward. After forty seconds of this, one of the passengers; an asari doctor by name of Leiana T'Soni made famous for her groundbreaking procedures in the field of eezo assisted surgeries, and subsequently making her incredibly wealthy and the proud owner of a series of hospitals on Thessia as a result; muttered a complaint. "Oh joy; it's one of _those _elevators." He remembered the young Matron's dossier also said she was especially arrogant; no doubt as a result of coming from one of the hundreds of 'old families' on Thessia able to trace their lineage back to before the asari discovered spaceflight. Her dossier also mentioned she recently gave birth to her first daughter; but he didn't pay attention to that portion of it as there were other departments keeping track of the various family lineages of those with power.

She received light chuckling from the people nearest to her, but he caught sight of what he recognized as a smirk from their guide. Before he could figure out why, the elevator opened with a ding and revealed a small hallway on the other side, making the chuckles cease, and then it hit him: he didn't even feel it slow down.

"TATRI and ERCS pride themselves on having some of the best made and maintained elevators on Palaven; we'd appreciate it if our elevators weren't compared to the likes of those on the Citadel, Doctor T'Soni." This time the chuckling was directed at the doctor, not with her; and the asari let out a petulant 'hmph!' in response. "And considering how far down we are, you should be happy for that fact."

"How far down _are _we then?" asked a voice from behind him he wasn't able to place.

"Ah, that's a good question: you see, as the building up top is built on the mesa where Cipritine was originally founded rather than the surrounding plains, we're technically speaking around 100 meters beneath the surface. However, when the mesa itself is taken into account, we're roughly five times that far down! Trinar Institute began excavation for the labs just three months ago, and managed to dig out the elevator shaft that we used to get here in under two weeks! The foundation of the facility itself took another five to complete and is still under construction in some areas, but it's expected to finish before the end of the month!" she explained proudly.

After that answer, the group continued following the female turian in silence as she walked down the slate grey hall lit by comfortably dimmed white lights that they ended up in; the walls lined with dozens of closed and locked doors with no way to see what lay beyond them, spiking his curiosity. Rather than ask about it, he decided to instead keep a close eye on their guide to watch for any reaction; and was mildly surprised when he discovered she was doing the same to him.

Not one to be caught off-guard, he tried to display the curiosity he felt by tilting his head questioningly at her and gesturing to one of the doors; believing that it would be less suspicious than looking away as soon as he caught her examining him in turn. She blinked in what he guessed was surprise and turned back around to face the direction they were walking; tapping something out on her dataslate. It was apparently a question to her superiors if he had to wager, as a few moments later she looked back towards him and gave a winning smile.

"We're currently undergoing numerous structural redesigns after a particularly explosive project nearly destabilized the building's foundation. We've moved the majority of our staff to another, less advanced, complex until the redesigns are completed."

"Ah. Thank you for explaining." he said with an appreciative nod.

"My pleasure, Mister Yuralor." she replied with her own nod; and he repressed the urge to grimace at the name assigned to his cover identity. In his professional opinion, it was not one of the better ones thought up by the section of the STG responsible for such things.

Noticing their little exchange, the others in the group decided to ask their own questions, and he kept track of each of them and their answers just in case anything important was brought up. As it turned out, nothing was, as any question regarding what the 'projects' they were about to see involved was given the same answer every time; albeit with slight variations to at least make it seem like she wasn't brushing them off. "Unfortunately, I lack the clearance to know the details behind them; and even if I did, it would be a breach of my contract resulting in immediate termination."

Disgruntled mutters came from those doing the asking, although they petered out when the group came up to a reinforced door that looked like it was the entrance to a bunker. "And we've finally arrived! Beyond these doors lay the future of technology as we know it!" Fimion exclaimed almost excitedly, and were it not for her tone leading him to realize she truthfully believed that claim, he would've passed it off as the standard varren shit that would normally be put into company ads.

Once again, he proved to have more self-control and awareness than most of the rich and famous gathered here, as Doctor T'Soni and several others scoffed in derision at the bold claim. "Uh-huh, sure. Let's just get this over with; I have a meeting to attend in a couple hours with a potential client here on Palaven." The Doctor said.

The guide seemingly lost her up-to-this-point solid control over her facial expressions and scowled at the asari; quickly regaining control of her features and slipping on a neutral mask that would make many of the best agents he knew of proud. "I assure you, Doctor, that I was by no means exaggerating. But, as I'm sure you'd all agree, words only mean so much; and the twelve of you came here to decide for yourselves whether or not the promises made in the invite each of you received were factual or not."

_Hmmm…for a supposed tour guide, she seems remarkably well informed of certain things that she should have no right knowing about; never mind how a normal corporate guide would do the best they could to keep from antagonizing potential investors. Gabitia Fimion…odd that I don't recall her name in any preliminary reports made on the employees working here. I suppose that she could be a last minute hire or possibly sent here directly from ERCS for today's events, but for some reason I highly doubt it._

Apparently taking their silence as agreement, Fimion went to one side of the door and placed her hand on a seemingly inconspicuous portion of the ship-grade armor plating that covered it. A camera appeared from above her hand and quickly scanned her face and eyes, followed by a similar scan from the area surrounding her hand. When it completed, the massive door let out a hiss and slowly opened; revealing yet another hallway that if his intuition was correct, was a purpose-built kill-zone.

_Air-tight underground facilities of this caliber without anyone discovering its construction? Impressive. All these layers of security, and yet she somehow has access to this apparently highly cordoned, and possibly even off-record, area of the institute? Even if it was only for today, there is no way she's merely a regular employee entertaining company guests._

His suspicions were proven correct when after the door fully opened and she stepped inside the new hallway – it being a clinical white compared to the slate grey from before, ending in a smaller, if still heavily reinforced door – a VI spoke up from hidden speakers. "Welcome back, Director Doniion."

He and half the group froze in place; the other half about to walk inside only to stop and look at them in confusion. "Doniion? As in Metiria Doniion, the reclusive turian multi-trillionaire with heavy investments in universities across the galaxy, and inheritor of the Doniion Shipyards over Aephus from her father, Tervius Doniion; the famous, or infamous, 'Dreadnaught CEO'?" he ended up asking in shock before he could get a hold of himself.

"Hey, Dad signed over the old _Mesmerina _to the Hierarchy as a gift when he died; even took out all the unnecessary boardrooms he used for company meetings back in the day. Good to know you're paying attention." She told him with a smirk, and unless he was mistaken, it was a devious one. "Oh and yes: I am in fact Metiria Doniion, CEO, majority shareholder, and Chairwoman of Doniion Shipyards, and privately I also happen to be a member of Elanus Risk Control Services' Board of Directors; although I wouldn't exactly call myself reclusive so-to-speak, I just prefer to avoid the spotlight whenever I can. Dad may have loved the attention, but I've never been one for it. Of course, it goes without saying that I would appreciate it if none of you go around spreading any of this to the press." The apparently wealthiest person in the room said warningly with a glance at T'Soni. "I promise that you'll find me to be someone that knows how to hold a grudge, and is willing to act on it." she added with a slight growl, and he found himself gulping at the truth in her promise – of the few things known about her, the STG found out that the last person to betray her personally; not the company itself mind you, they got off comparatively easy by simply being fired; wound up in over sixty pieces scattered across Citadel space – and he followed it up by nodding stiffly along with everyone else; all of them likewise stunned into silence. Or so he thought.

"Hahahaha!" The shortest of the thirteen people gathered by the still open doorway laughed. "*kssh* Ahhh…I was wondering *kssh* when you were going to tell them, Metiria. I see *kssh* that you still enjoy pretending to be a nobody when the fancy strikes you." Elkoss spoke up, making all eyes fall on the volus; who he realized was the second wealthiest person here only surpassed by the woman being spoken to, and a close second at that.

"Nice to see you too, Junlan. How's your father doing lately? I hear he's still recovering from his latest round of treatments?" the now named Doniion asked Elkoss with the first genuine smile he'd seen her show, as if the two ludicrously wealthy people were old friends. Which, considering Elkoss Combine had their official headquarters, the heavy cruiser _Gem of Irune_, built at Aephus and subsequently Doniion Shipyards, that possibility actually made sense.

_Wait, treatments? There is nothing about that in the reports I have access to. Is it possible I simply don't have the clearance for such information?_

"Indeed he is. The doctor's believe he'll make a full recovery *kssh* over the next few months with a regular dose of whatever it is that acquaintance *kssh* of yours sent us. Thank you for that by the way. From both me *kssh* and my father." Elkoss said in gratitude, making him blink at yet another piece of information he was unaware of.

"While I'm sure the two of you would enjoy catching up," Almena decided to cut in as diplomatically as possible, "as you said earlier, Miss Doniion: we came here to see what TATRI has to offer that would warrant us investing in the company. May we continue?"

"Ah yes, my apologies; and I suppose I should apologize as well for pretending to be just an uninformed employee to the rest of you." If he hadn't just learned first-hand how impressive an actress she is, he may have even believed it to be a genuine apology too. Now though? Let's just say he had a feeling that if she ever wanted to, she would make an excellent vid star. "Right then; that taken care of, time to get on with the show!" Doniion said with her faux tourist guide voice once more in place, pulling those still in shock over the revelation of just who she was out of it.

His hunch from earlier was once again proven correct, as the moment Doniion crossed some invisible boundary line three stationary turrets and twice as many missile drones sprung out from the walls and ceiling; each drone and gun emplacement lining up a threatening red laser sight on her chest. "That which slumbers endlessly will awaken when found by others." The turian trillionaire said calmly to no one in particular, and the automated defenses immediately retracted back into their hidden slots like they weren't even there. "Talk about paranoid. One of these days, I really should ask him where he gets these things from…" she muttered, before continuing to speak in a normal pitch. "I bring guests; open the gates."

Responding to her word, a haptic VI drone formed in front of the final door; the glowing ball colored a dark grey. "Hello, Director! Your previous visit to the Research and Development Labs was 3.4758 Galactic Standard hours ago! What is today's passphrase?" it asked in a positively chipper male turian voice; with a mechanical warble in the background that could've easily been mistaken for the species' subharmonics if you weren't paying attention.

"There isn't one, and you know it, Proxy." Doniion replied with an audible eye roll.

"Passphrase accepted! Please enjoy your visit, Director!" the drone said with far too much cheer in its voice, and Doniion sighed tiredly before it disappeared in the same way it arrived.

"Why couldn't they pick another personality matrix for that damn thing? All that cheerfulness wears me out when I'm on the receiving end…" the turian woman said in the silence that followed.

"Err, I take it this 'Proxy' is the lab VI?" their resident VI specialist, Vann'Maenna, asked.

"Indeed he is."

"Why does it have such an unusual name?" the quarian continued.

She didn't reply at first; waiting for the door to open. After making a hissing noise similar to its bigger counterpart, it slid open with nary a sound; and she gestured for them to continue following her, speaking as she walked. "Well apparently, and I'm not entirely sure of the finer details, but he used to be one of the projects they were working on down here over the past month or so; he was supposed to be part of an experimental piece of heavy machinery used in mining that would scan using subsonic frequencies. In theory, this system would've been able to detect differences in material composition; in laymen's terms, be able to locate pockets of valuable minerals and elements without needing to dig for it or use an expensive one-use mining probe. Long story short, when they finally got it up-and-running it was constantly complaining about being in proximity to a high concentration of liquid. They didn't think much of it at the time because they assumed it was simply a glitch in the early scanning software, so it came as a surprise when one of the construction teams hit an ancient water main that still somehow functioned and nearly flooded the room the team was in. After that? The newly named Proxy was given free reign of the labs until the construction finishes up to keep such an accident from recurring."

Before anyone could ask her more questions, they turned around a corner in the hallway and were immediately greeted by the sight of a quite literal cavern just outside the hallway's confines. As there wasn't much in the way of obstructions aside from scattered prefab buildings, he could see the entire area from where they exited. If his estimations were accurate, it was roughly around 300 meters wide by 100 long, and anywhere between 15 and 20 tall.

He was so engrossed in trying to figure out how they hollowed out such a large space without alerting the local government that he nearly missed it when the leanest turian he'd even seen walked over to them from inside a small shack nearby; the man shirtless and looking almost malnourished with how thin he was, but the agent noticed that the turian was anything but: the alien's build could be summed up as corded muscle wrapped around a skeleton with the skin and plates still attached.

"Ah, Director Doniion; back so soon?" he went up to the woman in question, and they grabbed each other's wrists and shook them in their kind's peculiar greeting.

"Decided to be the one to show our prospective future business partners around, Lieutenant Procnus." She explained when the now named Procnus looked at them. "Are the training grounds ready?"

"They are, ma'am. Do you still want to participate in the exercises with our other visitors?" Procnus asked her, apparently deciding to ignore the confused and equally curious group behind Doniion.

"I do. Before we begin though, I want you to lead the relevant people to the following departments so the scientists can properly explain what we're selling: VI Self-Improvement Research, Omni-tool Modular Attachments, Gene-Mod Creation, Alteration, and Refinement, and GARDIAN Miniaturization Development. All the names are on here," she waved the dataslate around, "and I expect this back when you're through with it; these things are hard to find nowadays, even if they're rather cheap."

"I'll be sure to return it when you're finished running through the course with the others." He promised with a nod after being handed the dataslate, and then proceeded to call out names. "Alright, if one of these happens to be your name, then please follow me: Vann'Maenna vas Rannoch, Tebin Daeu, Leiana T'Soni, and Ri'nesy Almena."

The four people did so, albeit while glancing back-and-forth between Doniion and Procnus, even as the agent's own group were led off in the direction of a series of prefab buildings setup on the opposite end of the artificial cavern.

_Hmm. The names of those departments sound like they hold great potential for advances in technology…or could become a serious hazard if the information falls into the wrong hands. _The man with the current name of Yuralor mused, finding himself wishing that Tebin Daeu was a fellow STG agent posing as a businessman rather than an unimportant no one whose only impressive feat was getting as far ahead in life as he did while belonging to such a weak family.

_No matter. When I invest in the company I should be allowed to see the details of such things anyway if what Doniion said is accurate._

* * *

Tebin Daeu was disappointed that he wouldn't be following the main group as they were shown other, more generalized, and (in his opinion) coincidentally useful projects, as he'd already accumulated enough information for the Broker from this trip to repay the debt he owed to the mysterious underworld figure for receiving such generous support in founding his company, Daeu Enterprises. The knowledge of Metiria Doniion being on ERCS' board of directors was more than valuable enough on its own; combine that with everything else, and he would undoubtedly end up being paid by the Broker for it, instead of paying off his debts to the aforementioned person.

Nevertheless, he followed behind the unnervingly thin turian (who was still without a shirt for some reason) as they entered one of the prefab buildings in the cavern. They were greeted by the sound of a muffled explosion and distant laughter. He could faintly make out a turian yelling something along the lines of "Why hasn't anyone thought of making a portable, grenade-launching turret before?! This thing is awesome!"

Their current guide apparently heard it as well if the amused head shake was anything to go by. "Well, seems somebody's enjoying testing the new equipment…" the man muttered with a light snort.

He decided not to ask.

They quickly arrived at a door with a guard in unremarkable dark grey armor – it being the standard set used by ERCS from what he understood – and they went inside after the guard confirmed who they were with Procnus. The first thing he noticed was a VI pedestal in the middle of the room showing a normal VI avatar considering the location; the projected 'turian' being the definition of generic from what he could tell, looking much like Avina or any other VI he knew of. There were a number of actual turians garbed in the stereotypical white outfits of researchers seemingly everywhere surrounding and talking to it, with a number of them working on a strange looking mech laying on a table next to the projector.

While he had difficulty understanding just what he was seeing, the quarian – Vann'Maenna, he remembered – gasped at whatever it was he noticed; the noise muffled somewhat by the transparent mask he wore to keep from catching anything particularly nasty while on the turian planet. Quarians, especially those that didn't spend much time in one place or ship, still needed to wear them when visiting turian worlds as the two dextro-based species could exchange diseases; and even with heavy levels of vaccination on the part of the quarians, it didn't hurt to be careful. At least that's what a quarian friend of Tebin's had explained when he asked.

"It's displaying actual emotions!" Vann'Maenna exclaimed after a moment of watching the VI speak; most of it technical information that was lost on the salarian considering his knowledge was centered more on stationary weapons batteries rather than mechs. Ask him what's wrong with a GARDIAN targeting system and he could find out in minutes with nothing but an omni-tool and a manual; but try getting him to fix a malfunctioning eezo core or locating a fault in an aircar's engine? He had no idea.

"Not quite." One of the nearer scientists said, walking up to them. "You see, Proxy here is still by all definitions a VI; we've just been having him examine and imitate facial expressions and vocal inflections to make him easier to communicate with. It's been a bit of a process, but I think the results speak for itself; although he does seem to heavily prefer a more…cheerful attitude than what we intended. During a lab accident around a week ago, he gladly informed us of a 'possible containment breach of toxic materials' in the same tone as someone happy to see an old friend."

"'He'?! 'Prefer'!? You're talking like that thing is a sentient being!" the quarian said in shock and, unless he was mistaken, a bit of revulsion.

The scientist smiled and nodded towards the VI projector, and the glowing grey 'turian' smiled pleasantly at them in turn. "On the contrary, potential investor Vann'Maenna vas Rannoch; the technicians here were simply kind enough to refer to me using organic terms, and programmed me to refer to myself in the first person."

"They…you…you did what?!" he said with a raised voice; not quite yelling, but far from pleasant nonetheless considering the fact they were indoors.

"Calm down, Mister Maenna; we'll even let you examine his code yourself if it makes you feel better. We're currently in the process of making a mobile platform for him to use for convenience's sake so that a normal VI can take his place in the lab systems, so I can assure you nothing out of the ordinary is happening here." the scientist said in an attempt to placate the near irate quarian, and the man in question paused for a moment to think it over.

"Fine. Show me where…'his' data core is, and I'll see just what type of monstrosity you're building." Vann'Maenna said with narrowed eyes, said eyes having acquired a threatening glow to them. The scientist gestured for what must've been his assistant to come forward, and the other turian led Vann'Maenna deeper into the room and out of sight.

"I trust you'll be able to handle it from here, Doctor?" Procnus asked the scientist.

"I believe so, yes. I assume that once he either agrees or disagrees you want us to send him to the training grounds for the final display?"

"Correct, though I will be coming back to retrieve him if he's still here an hour from now. In the meantime, I'll be showing the other departments to our visitors here, so if you'll excuse me."

"Of course, Lieutenant; we were in the middle of testing Proxy's platform anyway, and I'd like to get back to it."

Procnus acknowledged the man's words with a nod and walked out of the lab, leading the now three people following him to another door with a guard next to it. After a glance between the guard and their turian guide, they went in.

Once more he felt outside his field of expertise, but even with that, he could certainly admire the myriad of colors displayed in the half lab, half firing range they found themselves in; numberless holograms and haptic interfaces spread throughout the room haphazardly, each showing a different chart of some sort. Inside, there were seven turians and even a pair of quarians wearing what he recognized as technician suits; all of them constantly going back-and-forth between the small range set up in the room and what appeared to be a pile of discarded omni-tools. He learned why when the three people currently at the range – coincidentally also with only three lanes to shoot down – activated their omni-tools and sent a number of unusual tech abilities at floating targets at the other end. What appeared to be a cryogenic beam that froze its circular target in a ball of ice, making it shatter when it impacted the metal floor; a second target had just a regular incendiary mine launched at it but was stopped by a nearly translucent glowing shield that popped into existence at the last second, and from what he could see, it was an actual physical shield too, not a kinetic barrier; and the third was shot by what he could only label as an omni-bow, with the 'arrow' going through the target completely and burying itself in the heavily dented and scorched wall behind it.

Procnus turned around and blinked when he saw something behind Tebin, making him turn to follow his gaze. Tebin's eyes settled on Almena, and the asari had a smile on her face not unlike that of a child on the morning of their lifeday. "I take it you'd like to stay here and test some of the product, Miss Almena?" the turian asked amusedly.

Almena for her part tried to hide the slip in control, and were it not for the glimmer in her eyes, she might have even succeeded. "Ah, well, yes, I would." she said while staring almost longingly at the box where the technicians were retrieving their omni-tools from.

Procnus chuckled briefly, making Almena grumble under her breath, and he replied. "Of course, of course; considering omni-tools _are _what your company manufactures, I wouldn't dream of keeping you from experiencing the fancy new toys they've been working on here. I'm sure that management can work something more permanent out with you should you become an investor."

She didn't need any further prompting and went over to the table whereupon the omni-tool containing box resided; talking shop with a turian and quarian that were doing something with the 'tools they currently wore on their wrists.

_Just what else is ERCS having TATRI create down here? Wait…'GARDIAN Miniaturization Development'. How miniaturized might they be working towards? As it stands GARDIANs can just barely be installed on corvettes due to size and power constraints; is it possible they are attempting to downsize it enough to be installed on armored vehicles?_

He knew that soon enough he'd learn the answer to that question, so he once more followed Procnus out of the room and through the twisting white hallways of the prefab building turned research center.

The next door they came upon turned out to be their destination, and when they went inside Tebin's eyes widened by a significant margin. "Are-is-are you-I cannot believe-" he cut off his own stuttering with a breath to collect his thoughts, "Correct me if I am mistaken; but is that a portable laser turret? As in _mechanically unaided _portable?"

"Good eye," Procnus said with a nod, "and yes. Well, from what I know it's just a prototype right now; something about how it doesn't have enough stopping power to do serious damage to anything more than a civilian-grade aircar. The techs," he gestured to a pair of turians currently digging into the troop-portable GARDIAN laser as well as two more examining what he recognized as a focusing emitter on an oil-covered table, "are still trying to resolve that and the issues it has with power consumption. The board member that requested this project be started gave us quite the boost with a number of blueprints that in theory should be possible, but we haven't been able to replicate it so far. Another department apparently had better luck in that respect though, and made something called a 'particle beam'. The downside to that, however, is that unlike a true laser it can be blocked by kinetic barriers, hence the continuation of this project. Still, the particle beam they made was anything but a failure as far as management is concerned; but that can be further explained when you agree to sign on with us."

The remaining asari of the three of them, who Tebin had nearly forgotten in his examination of the prototype mini-GARDIAN (he could already make out at least two easily resolved flaws in the design), decided to speak up. "When, not if? That's awfully confident of you..." T'Soni muttered unsurely; he put her reserved and cautious tone up to what she was thinking they'd show her before too long that would make her jump at the opportunity to invest in TATRI.

"Just call it a hunch, Doctor T'soni." The turian replied confidently. Tebin had a feeling that if the others in their initial group were being shown similar things as they were, it was effectively guaranteed that what Procnus said would prove true.

After being introduced to one of the engineers by Procnus – he only paid enough attention to it to hear the man's name – the shirtless turian walked out of the room with T'Loris, leaving him behind to look over the currently non-functioning laser array.

_Now then, you magnificent piece of engineering and destructive thermal energy, I believe it is time to discover all of your secrets! Ahh, how I have missed working on the very things I produce! I wonder how long it will take them to produce a working prototype? This has the potential for drastically changing the current design of infantry armor, never mind vehicle design; if even with strong and fully intact barriers a soldier or tank can still be put out of commission, everything except heavy armor and ablative plating will rapidly become obsolete. And if I invest in a research firm to find ways of counteracting this ahead of time, I could potentially earns millions of credits before any of my competitors come anywhere close to adjusting to the change in combat doctrine!_

After borrowing a pair of oversized work gloves from one of the turians, he began a thorough examination of the power pack attached to the mini-GARDIAN, managing to locate no less than nine different issues where the wiring was done improperly; the faults resulting in a severely inefficient power drain on the weapon as a whole. One of the turians decided to watch over his shoulder as he worked, and when Tebin glanced back he had to keep a smug grin from forming when he saw the woman's mandibles open in shock at the display.

_Turians. They will never cease to amaze me with how inept they are at appreciating the finer details or noticing the 'unimportant' faults in the technology they produce. Ironic considering many of the best employees I have are turians, but that _is _why I put salarians in managerial positions._

He continued digging around in the internals of the laser weapon alongside the now reinvigorated engineers he shared the room with until Procnus came back around an hour later with a thoroughly subdued, and simultaneously impressed looking T'Soni behind him; and the turian gestured for him to follow after giving the now dirty work gloves back to their original owner.

"I assume you'd be willing to invest, then?" Procnus asked after they left the room, no doubt heading to collect the two others.

"You assume correctly." he answered with an energetic smile; the manual labor appeared to have gotten his blood pumping, and he felt the urge to take apart something and put it back together again to keep himself occupied.

"Glad to hear it. After we collect Vann'Maenna and Almena, we'll head over to the training ground for the final display."

"And what, may I ask, is that going to involve?" T'Soni inquired curiously.

"You'll see…"

* * *

**Well, as the man said: you will indeed see…just not yet. The reason for this ending where it did is because I once again had to remove the final segment and save it for the next chapter, but this time it was to keep from delaying this from getting posted rather than length issues.**

**Right, so The Outer Worlds is a thing and I am thoroughly enjoying it so far. In related news, I should probably refrain from making promises I can't keep about when I'll update. But hey, at least I was only a day over my original deadline rather than half a month. Progress!**

**So, my mind is both a blank and extremely tired right now (been staying up way longer than I should lately and it's starting to affect my writing schedule) and as such I can't think of anything else to say. I hope you enjoyed and I'll see you next time!**


End file.
